Hard Candy Saga (6 page)

Suddenly her ears burst with the sound of her father's voice.
“Junior, don't you ever fuckin' question any of my executive decisions. I'm the boss. Remember that shit. If you don't want to be excommunicated and shut out of this hustle, you better do what the fuck I said to do
.
”

When Shana noticed Candice looking past her in a daze, she turned around in her seat. “Oh shit! Here the fuck we go,” Shana said, turning back around quickly and taking another glass of poison to the head. Shana was acting as if she'd seen a monster.

“What's the matter?” Candice asked, her eyebrows furrowed. She knew who the man was and his so-called street reputation, but she wanted to understand why Shana seemed so spooked by his presence.

“Girl, that nigga that just walked in the club like he is fuckin' King Midas is Junior. He is Broady's brother and a royal pain in the ass. He is the boss of all of this shit. But when he's around, Broady acts different. Like real stupid and violent. It's like he be tryin' to impress Junior or something.” Shana's voice trailed off like she was reminiscing on something painful.

Candice continued to take in an eyeful of Junior and the man that made a move every time Junior moved. She needed to observe as much as possible, just like Uncle Rock had taught her to observe everything about her mark—even small things, like a twitch, limp, or left-handed versus right-handed.

“When you say ‘the boss,' what do you mean?” Candice asked innocently.

“Well, I'm not supposed to talk about Broady's business, but for some reason even though I just met you, I trust you, Candy.” Shana lowered her eyes and her voice. She leaned in closer and whispered, “I don't really have too many friends, you know, because of Broady. Anyway, Junior is a drug boss, like a kingpin.” Her eyes darted around to make sure no one else could overhear her. “I heard he killed a bunch of niggas to get to the top and shit. He is ruthless, but he is very rich.”

Just as Shana finished her sentence, they both jumped, startled by a small commotion at Broady's table. Junior was slapping hands and hugging Broady. Then several members of Junior's entourage did the same with Broady's crew members. Candice couldn't hear what Junior was saying over the music, but she made a mental note that the two brothers had a close relationship.

“See what I mean? Now I'm gonna get the fuckin' wrath of Broady showing off, trying to impress his big brother tonight. Junior don't want nobody to get close to Broady but him. I'm telling you, Candy, that nigga Junior is pure evil and fuckin' crazy.” Shana took another glass to the head.

Candice silently agreed. Shana's statement was ironic. One time Candice's father had said that same thing about her brother Eric Junior. Eric, always angry and unusually aggressive, had been the Hardaway family's biggest secret. When he got old enough for Easy to start grooming him to take over, he would often get himself into trouble because of his temper. He was a great disappointment to his father and a constant source of frustration. Later in life, he'd been diagnosed as manic-depressive.

Maybe the moniker
Junior
guarantees one to be fuckin' evil,
Candice thought
.

Candice and Shana watched as Junior went around the table smacking fives and chest bumping with Broady's friends. She noticed them furtively passing small knots of cash under the table and one of Junior's guys picking up the money. It was definitely clear who was the boss around there. Candice knew right away she was in the right place and had the right dudes. The information she had taken from Uncle Rock's safe was correct—all of the major players did appear to congregate in this one place.

“C'mon, we leavin',” Broady barked at Shana, hovering over her like a giant ogre.

Shana gave Candice a look of desperation that said, “Please come with me.” She stood up to leave with Broady.

Just as they were about to step away, Junior and the man at his side the entire night approached. “Shana, you ain't gon' introduce me to your friend?” Junior asked, smiling at Candice.

Junior looked different than the pictures Candice had of him. His complexion was much lighter than his mug shot photo. Junior and his brother were definitely like day and night, in terms of complexion. Junior had definitely aged over the past four years, the salt-and-pepper specks in his mustache and goatee indicating that much. He was also taller than Candice had imagined him to be, but he wasn't nearly as massive as Broady.

The bigger they are, the harder they fall.
Candice did not respond to Junior's comment, and an awkward silence ensued.

“W'sup, Junior? How are you? Me? Oh, I'm doing just peachy. Thank you for asking.” Shana rolled her eyes. Her disdain for Junior was clear. She was usually very good at hiding her feelings, but the drinks she had thrown back during the night had given her a strong dose of liquid courage.

Candice smirked, secretly pleased with her friend's brashness.

“Damn, baby brother! You ain't got this bitch in check yet? I guess I haven't taught you well enough,” Junior said to Broady.

It was like a master giving an attack dog a command. Junior had put the battery in Broady's back for sure, and Broady took off like the little pink Energizer Bunny. Before Candice could even react, he lifted his huge Sasquatch hand and backhand slapped Shana across her face.

Shana was caught off guard, and her body went tumbling backward as blood squirted from her nose. She hit the floor dead on her ass because she was unable to prepare for or break her fall. Shana's tailbone throbbed.

Candice was in shock. All of the dudes surrounding them were caught off guard as well.

“Yo, man, why the fuck you hittin' on a girl?” Junior's right-hand man growled at Broady.

Junior didn't say a word. He just looked on with a stupid-looking grin on his face.

Candice jumped up and grabbed her bag. Instinctively, she began reaching for her gun but remembered quickly that she was outgunned twenty to one. “What the fuck are you doin'?” she screamed in a somewhat delayed reaction as she rushed over to help her friend off the floor.

“I'm minding my fuckin' business and leaving yours alone,” Broady hissed.

Junior watched Candice closely.

“Damn, baby girl! If I didn't know any better, I'd think you was a cop, the way you came to that bitch's aid,” Junior said to Candice.

Candice turned to face him, her head spinning around like the possessed girl in
The Exorcist
. “Far from a cop, actually. And I ain't gotta be a cop to know that a nigga that hits on a girl to impress his brother is a bitchass!”

Junior and his crew began laughing. They obviously loved Candice's cocky attitude. She was definitely different than the girls they were used to hanging around with, who fawned all over them. Candice had a confident air about her, almost like one of the fellas in Junior's crew.

Candice turned her back on Junior and attended her friend.

“Girl, I'm fine,” Shana mumbled as her nose leaked blood.

“No, you're not fine. What the hell was that all about?”

“I told you that is how he gets when Junior is around. I'm going to be all right. Why don't you just head home, Candy? This ain't really the place for a nice girl like you.” Shana was embarrassed that Candice had seen Broady behave in his normal asshole way. Shana had taken many a beating from Broady, but lately he had begun to do it in public, sometimes without even provocation.

“I'm not going to leave you in this place and in this condition if you think you won't be all right,” Candice said firmly.

Although Candice had initiated their friendship because Shana was a means to an end, she was starting to care about the annoying ghetto girl. Shana was a sweet, harmless, fast-talking bubblehead that had an asshole for a boyfriend. She was a victim of sorts that needed protection from the likes of Junior and Broady.

During one of their early brunch meetings, Shana had told Candice all about how her mother had been a drug mule and went to jail when she was just seven years old. Shana then went to live with her maternal grandmother, but after she died, Shana was basically knocked around in foster care until she met Broady.

Essentially, Shana went from the frying pan into the fire when she got into a relationship with that man. Broady became her caretaker, lover, friend, her everything. Shana really didn't have anyone else. For that reason, when Broady said jump, Shana asked how high.

Candice could totally relate. Of course, she wasn't fully honest about her childhood with Shana, telling her that her parents had died in an accident. At least, it wasn't a total lie. She pulled on Shana's arm and steered her toward the ladies' room.

Shana wasn't too mortified about her bloody face, since there was only a scattering of people left in the club.

Broady yelled at their backs, “Hurry the fuck up!”

Candice gritted her teeth to keep from saying something she'd regret later.

Once inside the bathroom Shana tried to brush it all off. “It's really nothing, girl. I'm so used to this same routine. Liquor, plus his ego, plus that fuckin' brother of his. Really, Candy, I'm fine,” Shana rambled as she cleaned up her face with the hard industrial paper towels. She wet the paper and blotted at her nose. Her cheek was starting to show green right through her makeup.

Candice watched as Shana limped over to the hand drier, pressed the large silver button, turned around, and lifted the end of her dress in an attempt to dry the huge wet spot on the back of it. She'd fallen right into a puddle of somebody's spilled drink. Shana continued to make conversation, while Candice looked on in disbelief.

“He usually keeps his cool in front of people most of the time. I don't know . . . maybe he had too much to drink. I really was nasty to Junior, and I should've just been nice. Like I said, though, it's all right, Candy. I know I sound like I'm making excuses. I'm just trying to explain. I just want peace. I . . . I'm . . . just . . . Look at you, looking at me like I'm crazy.” Shana ended her succession of words with a high-pitched laugh that bordered on hysteria.

Candice could see right through Shana's act. “It's never all right for a man to hit you, Shana. But I'm not one to judge anybody's choice in men. Broady is going to get his.”

Candice immediately regretted the words after they left her lips. Uncle Rock had always told her, “Words are like eggs dropped from great heights. You can't ever put the pieces back together after they hit home.”

Shana, preoccupied with fixing her appearance, didn't seem to notice or care about Candice's offhand comment. “You ready, Candy?” she asked, smoothing down her dress when she felt it was dry enough.

“If you are,” Candice replied, yanking on the door and holding it so Shana could leave first.

Shana rushed out of the bathroom so fast, Candice could barely keep up with her. Trying to catch up, she walked headfirst into someone. Startled, she jumped back to put some distance between them. “Oh, excuse . . .” Candice looked up into the face of a stranger. “Sorry, I didn't see you.”

“Excuse me, too. Is she all right?” The man motioned his head in Shana's direction.

Candice recognized him as the man who'd been at Junior's side all night. She immediately put a scowl on her face. Why didn't his ass do something besides talk, when Broady had slapped the shit out of Shana? She had heard him referred to as Junior's “lieutenant” throughout the night. In her assessment, anybody who was a friend of Junior's was an enemy of hers.

“Nah, I don't think you would be all right if somebody six times your size slapped the shit out of you in a club filled with people.” Candice pursed her lips.

“I feel you, ma. I know that li'l dude, Broady, be fuckin' up. I'ma talk to him,” the man said.

Candice softened the look on her face once she realized he wasn't half bad-looking. In fact, he was damn near fine. Her cheeks immediately flamed over at the thought. He was about six feet two inches tall with an athletic build and had the most beautiful chocolate-colored skin Candice had seen, aside from her father's, of course. The man's head was shaved clean, and he had a long, prominent chin. His most striking feature, however, was his eyes, which were chestnut brown and showed up much lighter against his smooth, dark complexion.

“Anyway, ma, I'm Tuck. I don't think we've met before,” he said, extending his hand for a shake.

Candice had to snap herself away from staring at his perfect white teeth. He either had a great orthodontist or he had purchased them.

“Candy. Nope. We haven't met,” she said dryly, keeping her hands at her sides. She felt a little fluttering in her stomach that made her want to run in place or move her body. Or maybe even run away from him. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. This indescribable feeling was a new sensation for Candice—uncomfortable in a good way, but extremely dangerous, given her current mission.

“It's real nice to meet you, Candy,” Tuck said, putting his hand down to his side when he realized she wasn't going to shake it. “Look, I don't ever agree with that hitting-on-a-woman bullshit. Broady is a little asshole that wants to be a man so bad like his brother. That was some bullshit.”

“Yeah, well, birds of a feather . . . ” Candice walked away from him in a huff. She wanted to turn back and look at him so badly, but her pride and ego would not allow it. She couldn't help but wonder if he was watching her.
You're on a mission. You ain't here to look at no dudes. Getcha mind right, Candy.