Powder Blu (19 page)

I stood by a tree dressed in all black, wearing black sunglasses so no one would recognize me. I was still kinda groggy from the night before as I watched Frenchie's family lay her to rest. I knew she hadn't had any insurance, so I'd sent her mother twenty grand so she could properly bury her child. I was responsible for her death so that was the least I could do. I still couldn't believe she was gone.

“Did you know the deceased?” some old white lady walked up behind me and asked, scaring me half to death.

“Uhhh, yeah, that was the love of my life,” I answered, while wiping away my tears.

“Awww, that's so sweet. The love of my life is buried right there,” she said pointing at a headstone that was engraved Marty Vanhorn 1931–2014.

“Sorry about your loss, ma'am,” I said.

“It's okay. I guess it was just his time to go. I have nobody now,” the old lady said.

“Do you have any children?” I asked.

“Nope. Marty and I couldn't conceive any. So it was just he and I for the past sixty-five years.”

“Damn, sixty-five years?” I asked surprised.

“Yep, sixty-five years. We got married in 1949,” the old lady said with a smile.

“That's a long time to stay wit' just one person,” I said.

“I thought the same thing too at your age. But then I realized if you love that person you will stay wit' him or her no matter what. You will find a way and fight to make it work. It wasn't easy by far, but my Marty and I loved one another with every fiber in our bein' and that love is what kept us together for so long.”

“Thanks for sharin' your story wit' me,” I said, smiling at the old lady.

“No, thank you for listenin',” she said before turning to walk away.

I turned my attention back to Frenchie's burial and watched for a few more minutes before heading to my car. I pulled out my cell phone and called Miguel but got no answer. He must have been mad because I didn't go home last night. It wasn't my fault; I had passed out on the couch. I would go to the condo and make it up to him later on, but first I need to go collect my money from Nikki and the rest of my soliders.

 

 

“Oh, my God, noooooo,” I heard Blu screaming as I walked through the front door from collecting my money.

“What's the matter, baby?” I ran into the kitchen and asked.

“Oh, my God, please tell me it ain't true,” I heard her cry into the phone receiver. “Who did it?”

“What's the matter, Blu?” I demanded.

“They found Miguel dead,” she cried.

“What the fuck?” I asked, needing her to repeat what she had just said.

“Oh, my God, oh my God,” she chanted over and over.

“What happened to him?” I said as tears filled my eyes.

“I don't know. The police called and asked for you. They said your name was on his lease as his next of kin,” Blu said as the tears rushed from her eyes.

“Where did they find him at?” I asked.

“At some condo on the west side,” she replied, wiping her tears away only to have more follow.

“Whose condo was it?” I asked, trying to cover my tracks and act like I didn't know.

“I don't fuckin' know. He was yo' best friend,” Blu said. “I need to find my mom.”

“This shit ain't makin' no sense to me,” I said, trying to piece this story together. I didn't know why but my first thought was Blu had something to do with Miguel's murder.

“All I know is the detective said one of the neighbors went and knocked on Miguel's door this mornin' because he wasn't out walkin' his dog as usual. I guess the neighbor reported that they'd seen a black car sittin' on the street last night wit' someone sittin' in it, but hadn't thought much about it, until Miguel didn't answer his door.”

“A black car?” I asked.

“The police tried knockin' on Miguel's door and when they got no answer, they kicked the door in and found him and the dog dead on the bedroom floor,” Blu said, before breaking down again.

“Wow, man, what the fuck is goin' on?” I shouted as I walked over to Blu, wrapped my arms around her, and held her as she cried.

“I don't know,” she replied.

“It's gon' be okay, baby,” I assured Blu.

“I didn't get a chance to say good-bye,” she said, wiping away her tears.

“It's okay, baby, Miguel knew you loved him. He always talked about you,” I said, stretching the truth. He did always talk about her, but never in a good way.

“That's good to know.” She sniffed.

I looked at my watch and even though I didn't want to leave Blu during a time like this, I had no other choice. I had to meet with Mr. Davenport and find out why the price of his powder increased almost $1,000.

“Look, Blu, I need to run somewhere important. Will you be okay until I get back?”

Blu shook her head yes.

“I'll be back as soon as I'm done, I promise,” I said, kissing her on the forehead.

“Okay. I'm 'bouta go lie down,” she said.

“Yeah, do that. We'll figure this shit out together,” I said before turning to walk away.

It felt like my life was falling apart at the seams. First Frenchie, then Miguel; what was next, Blu? I wasn't gon' allow that to happen. I would lay down my life for her, because I knew she would do the same for me; at least I would have liked to think she would. I really didn't know about her anymore. She had changed a lot. I didn't know if the money was going to her head or what; all I knew was she was definitely not the same Blu.

After Miguel's funeral Budz tried his best to kiss my ass and make me feel like I was his one and only. Not knowing Daren had already hipped me to him messing around wit' some white dude named Dillon. This was the final straw. Plus, I missed Black so much. Him telling me not to contact him until Budz was dead was pure punishment. I missed the way he kissed me, the way he made love to me, the way he smelled. I just missed him all around the board. My mind was made up; tonight would be Budz's last night alive.

“What smells so good?” Budz walked into the kitchen and asked.

“I'm cookin' steak, baked potatoes, broccoli and cheese with a side salad and butter rolls,” I said, looking at him smiling.

“Ooooh wee, I can't wait 'cause I'm starvin',” he said smiling as well.

I could see stringy strands of blond hair on his jacket, which led me to believe he'd been laid up with Dillon all day.

“Well go in the livin' room and relax. Dinner will be done in about twenty minutes,” I said, stirring the broccoli and cheese.

“A'iiight, I'ma go in here and watch me some ESPN.”

Twenty-five minutes later, I called Budz into the kitchen to eat. He walked in smiling. “Damn, this shit look so good, baby,” he said, sitting down in front of his plate.

“Why thank you.” I smiled before sitting down across from him.

Budz and I made small talk as he devoured his food. I stood up from the table, walked over to the refrigerator, and grabbed him a beer.

“Thanks, baby, you the best,” he said turning the beer up, taking it to the head.

“Dang, you want another one?” I laughed.

“Actually I do,” he said before letting out a loud belch.

I got up from the table and got Budz another beer out of the refrigerator and handed it to him.

“Thank you,” he said, doing the beer the same way he'd done the first one.

I sat back down across from him and smiled.

“Man, I shouldna ate so much. I done got tired,” Budz said yawning.

“Are you sure it's the food that got you feelin' tired?” I looked at him and asked. “Or is it a lack of butt?”

“It's gotta be. I can barely keep my eyes open,” Budz said slowly as he fought to stay awake “Good, that means the Promethazine is workin',” I said, laughing 'cause my comment had gone completely over Budz's head.

“What the fuck? Bitch, you posioned me? Why you laughin'?” Budz slurred.

“Somethin' like that,” I looked at him and said.

“Bitch, I'ma kill you,” he said attempting to swing at me.

“No, nigga, but I'ma kill you,” I said, continuing to laugh.

I watched as Budz's eyes slowly closed and before long he was out.

 

 

“Wake up, baby,” I said, smacking Budz in the face a few times as hard as I could.

“What's goin' on?” he asked coming to but still groggy. “Where am I?”

“You're at the warehouse.”

“What am I doin' here?” he looked at me and asked, barely holding his head up.

“I'm about to kill you, Budz, that's what you're doin' here,” I said.

“Quit playin', Blu,” he said realizing he was tied to a chair.

“Oh, I'm not playin'. Just like I wasn't playin' when I killed the Davidsons, or when I made you kill your faggot-ass lover, Frenchie, or when I killed Miguel and his barking-ass dog, and I'm not gon' play when it comes to killin' you,” I said, letting out a hearty laugh.

“Bitch, I'ma kill you for this! You are crazy as fuck just like Miguel said you was!” he said, struggling to get loose from the chair he was in.

“Now, how you gon' do that? Your gay-ass is tied to that chair. Oh and by the way, I don't take kindly to muthafuckas threatenin' my daughter,” Mr. Davenport said stepping into the room.

“Mr. Davenport, I'm so glad to see you; please help me get untied. This crazy bitch done lost her mind!” Budz was happy as hell to see a familiar face at first. “I'ma kill this bitch and I ain't playin'!” It quickly dawned on Budz what Mr. Davenport had just said. “Wait a minute, your daughter?” Budz asked surprised.

“Yeah, nigga, my daughter!” Mr. Davenport repeated.

“I got somebody else I want you to meet,” I looked at Budz and said.

“Long time no see, nigga,” Vomo walked into the room and said.

“How the fuck you get out, nigga? You was doin' five to fifteen,” Budz looked at him and asked.

“I paid your attorney Richard to get him out. Oh and I used your money to pay him.” I smirked. “And by the way, he's still mad about you killin' his momma.”

“You dirty bitch! I'ma get you!” Budz screamed as he continued to struggle to get loose.

“I don't think you in no position to be makin' threats, nigga,” Yogi walked into the room and said.

“Awwww, man, Yogi, not you too. Why, man, why?” Budz asked, crushed.

“Nigga, fuck you!” Yogi shouted. “I was your right-hand man. You wanted to pay me pennies while yo' ass livin' like a king. Nigga, I shoulda been eatin', rollin', and livin' just as good as you as much work as I put in. Then you commited the ultimate sin! I can't believe you was fuckin' wit' punks. I lost all respect for your bitch-ass; now I'ma treat you accordingly.”

“Wait, we not done yet. Let me introduce you to our guest of honor,” I said, smiling and laughing.

“Well, well, well, look what we have here,” Black said, walking into the room.

“Who the fuck are you?” Budz asked, confused.

“You want me to introduce you or would you like to do the honors, baby?” I looked at Black and asked.

“Baby?” Budz asked, confused.

“Yeah, baby, nigga,” Black said walking over to me and giving me a wet kiss on the lips, instantly turning me on.

“You can do it?” Black said before gently patting my ass.

“My pleasure,” I looked up at Black and smiled. “Budz, meet Black.”

The look on Budz's face was priceless.

“But I killed you, muthafucka!” Budz shouted.

We all began to laugh.

“You killed someone, but it wasn't Black. Ya right-hand man, Yogi, found a nigga who looked like Black and that's who you killed. Why do you think I didn't want you to remove that duct tape from his mouth? So he couldn't tell you that he wasn't Black,” I said with a smirk.

“You dirty bitch! How could you cross me like that! I took yo' grimy-ass in when ya momma put you out!” Budz screamed. “This that same nigga I saw you talkin' to that night on the yacht!”

“Yep, it sure is,” I agreed.

“I loved you, Blu, and I thought you loved me too. How could you do me like this?” Budz said, hurt.

“The same way you could fuck Miguel, Nikki, Frenchie, me, Dillon, and ain't no tellin' who all else,” I looked at him and said.

“They meant nothin' to me. You were the one I shared my empire wit'! Not Nikki, Miguel, Frenchie, or Dillon; it was you!” Budz said.

I started feeling bad because Budz was the one who had taken me in when my momma put me out, he was the one that had turned me onto a new life and plenty of money. Black must have sensed that I was having second thoughts about killing Budz, because he quickly jumped in.

“Fuck that nigga, baby! This fag was fuckin' boys and then comin' home fuckin' you,” Black said, reminding me why we were here in the first place. “Every time he lay down with you he was riskin' your life fuckin' wit' them boys.

“Look, Blu, please just let me go. What do you want, money? If that's what it is, you can have it all,” Budz said, frantically.

“Let's get one thing straight before I kill you. Your money was always my money. I made your business. I held you down when you got locked up. Nigga, the business that you always called yours wasn't yours, it was mine!”

“Baby, please don't hurt me! I'm sorry,” Budz begged.

“I almost feel sorry for you, nigga! And I did say almost,” I looked at his pathetic ass and said.

“My God, Blu, why?” Budz said, crying.

“Give me one good reason why not, Budz,” I walked up to him and asked.

“Because you love me,” he said.

I stared at Budz for a brief moment before speaking. “You're right, I do love you. I love you a lot. But not enough to let you live,” I said.

“Please don't do this to me,” Budz begged.

“I have to. There's no turning back now.”

Budz watched as Black handed me his 9 mm. “Wow, Blu, I would have never thought,” Budz said, shaking his head.

“Nigga, maybe you should have,” I said pointing the gun at him, shooting him three times in the face.