The Corner III (No Way Out) (28 page)

Chavez simply nodded.

“Well, Bone’s plan was to make us think that it was Slim’s lieutenant, Noonie, when in fact it was his ass.”

Chavez unclenched his fist. He was calming down even though anger still flowed through his veins—a controlled anger. “So what do you plan to do?” Chavez questioned.

“I give you the okay to do what you feel so—”

“I’ma kill him, you can best believe that!” he said before cutting her off.

“You’re owed that much. But I want you to know when it’s done, you need to have our soldiers on point. And we are going to have to prepare for battle because I’m breaking from the Russians and Slim.”

“What about Bone’s crew? They’ll come after us.” He grinned as he rubbed his waistband where his .40 caliber Glock rested under the jersey.

LaTanza smiled, “There is dissention in their ranks. I met with Reynard to confirm that Bone did the hit. He’s ready to take over, and they are going to get their drugs from us as we are going to get them from Chacho.”

Chavez smiled, “He has come through, huh?”

She nodded with a fabulous smile.

He stated, “It’s about time, I like dealing with my people, anyways.”

“I’m going to meet with him this weekend in Cozumel to iron out things.”

“You run it by Carlos?” Chavez wanted to make sure LaTanza wasn’t getting too ahead of herself without consulting his friend and head of the family.

“No, not yet anyway. He would be against killing Bone right now since he and Lucky are the ones who agreed on dealing with the Russians. But now that we can buy from Chacho, we don’t need the Russians. I’ll let him know once Bone is dead because Reynard agreed not to deal with the Russians.”

“So that is our way out.”

“Correct,” she said as she stood. Chavez did the same as she came from behind her desk and to where Chavez stood. “I ask one thing. No one knows about this. You can let him know why you are killing him but he must die after that and this information dies with him.”

“Don’t worry, you know how I do.”

With that El Diablo,
The Devil
, was on his way to formulate his plan. He wasn’t going to let Bone live past the next three days. He wouldn’t want him to die accidently before he could get to him. If Bone was to get hit by a car by accident, Chavez was filled with so much anger and rage that he would dig Bone’s body up and kill him again.

*     *     *

Poncho Perez entered the ring wearing his signature trunks that were white with a green and red stripe going down the side with the Mexican flag embroidered on the left leg. He was dancing to a Mexican song as the crowd went wild. Jamel was in his corner hopping slightly and throwing short punches to keep warm. He looked confident as Fight Doctor spoke to him in his ear. Fight Doctor was animated when barking at Jamel, pointing at Perez the entire time. Jamel was focused and knew if he won the fight he would be on his way as a professional. When he was in the training room waiting to be introduced so he could make his way to the ring, he told Lucky that the fight was dedicated to him. Lucky smiled and told him that he loved him like a son and knew that God had a plan for him and that’s why he had him as his driver all that time. That he wanted to keep the young man close to him to ensure no harm was to come to him.

Slim was dressed in a Hugo Boss suit and Trish a plunging lace-applique dress by Mandalay. They were sitting behind Lucky, who was wearing an all black Stacy Adams suit and Anthony and Tesha, who were also dressed to impress. Noonie, Chantel, Reese and his date, a thick chocolate woman named Meka, were sitting in the same row as Slim, only a few seats to the right. Jamel, who was wearing a black and white robe, the colors of the southeast side gym, had given them a wave when he walked past them as he headed for the ring, while the song
Swagger Like Us
blared through the speakers pumping up the crowd who was rooting for Jamel. Jamel was unknown to most fans, but today it was like usual. An African-American was fighting someone of another race and that brought cheers from all the blacks toward Jamel.

The crowd was cheering, and they were ready for some action. After introducing the fighters, the ring announcer called the young men to the center of the ring. He recited the rules to the men then gestured for them to bump gloves. Poncho walked off, not acknowledging the young man who he remembered beating him in a sparring match. Jamel smiled as he headed back to his corner.

When Jamel returned to his corner, Fight Doctor barked at Jamel over the crowd. “That’s what you want, baby! He knew he couldn’t touch you then, and he can’t now. He just showed fear. Don’t go to southpaw unless I tell you. Got it?”

Jamel bounced up and down keeping an eye of the tiger stare on Poncho, and Jamel could swear he saw fear in the man’s eyes. The bell rang, and Jamel was on Poncho landing two quick left jabs. Poncho tried to throw several different combinations, but Jamel was simply too fast. Jamel kept jabbing and moving, collecting points and making the heavily favored boxer look bad. Lucky smiled, and relished the moment. Jamel was toying with Poncho and when there were thirty seconds left in the round, Jamel finished Poncho off by forcing the running Mexican in the corner and hitting him with a flurry of punches that reminded Fight Doctor of Sugar Ray Leonard. Poncho was being hit with several combinations, and it was obvious that he was much slower and weaker than Jamel. With forty seconds left in the first round, the predominantly Hispanic crowd was stunned. They couldn’t believe what they were seeing and neither could the rest of the crowd. No one knew of Jamel, but they were getting a quick lesson. To the boxing experts, promoters and other boxers who were in attendance they saw a young man who they had figured to have been hidden by Fight Doctor’s team, but the truth was Jamel was a talent who simply had skills. A young man who’d gone to the streets but was brought back by faith. Jamel and Lucky’s chance run-in with Fight Doctor had put the young man back on track to a life of promise.

It was two minutes into the fight when a left hook caught the slower Poncho on the temple, sending him to the canvass, hard. Poncho fell from a punch, and his record fell just as fast—from twenty-one and two to twenty-one and three.

*     *     *

Bone was sitting on a barstool at the corner of the bar cheering on Jamel. The barmaid, whose breasts were too large for her slim frame, set another Bud light in front of Bone as he lit a Newport. One of his partners, Big Sam, was talking his ear off so Bone had to tell him to hold the noise when Friday Night Fights came on ESPN 2. He had a couple of tickets to the fight, but decided to give them to Reynard. Bone wasn’t down with large crowds. He’d rather sit in a small bar and watch sporting events such as the Super Bowl, NBA finals even the World Series or even better on the sixty-inch Sony 3D television in the confines of his west side home.

As Jamel trotted out of the training room and into the ring, Bone noticed him waving at Lucky and Slim. Bone grinned slightly, knowing Lucky had to be proud of the former young gangster, and in a way, Bone was also. Even though they were rivals who have come together to make a substantial profit, Bone wanted Jamel to succeed. He liked when brothas from Chicago made it to stardom. Kanye, Common, Derrick Rose and Michael Turner just to name a few. So he really wanted to see Jamel make it because he had a love for boxing, and when it did happen, he would be able to say that he knew the fighter.

The fight had started, and the bartender served Bone another cold one. He’d taken two hefty swallows of his brew when Jamel sent his opponent to the ground.

After the referee finished his count and Jamel was hailed as the winner, Big Sam barked, “Man, that was some bullshit! That’s why I don’t fuck with boxing no mo’! If I had paid pay per view for this shit, I woulda been pissed!”

Bone said, “It was on ESPN, so how the fuck would you have paid for it, nigga?”

“Man, I’m just saying. If it ain’t football or basketball, this is the way shit always goes. Anyway, I was hoping the Mexican would’ve knocked that lil’ nigga out!” Big Sam said as he reached into the pretzel basket and ate a few of the free snacks.

“Just cause we beefed with them niggas for a moment don’t mean you gots to run with the Mexican cat over the brotha,” Bone said as he downed his beer. He wasn’t feeling the bar anymore, so he decided to run over to one of his many hoodrats apartments to blow off a little steam by blowing the young skeezers back out.

Bone snatched his leather jacket off the stool next to him and slipped it on over his long-sleeve Polo. “I’m ‘bout to dip out this motha,” he said after flipping a twenty on the bar as a tip.

“Shit, Bone, where you headed? Let’s run and shoot a game of pool.”

Not feeling like hanging with a hard leg, especially Big Sam’s no pussy getting ass, Bone said, “I’m flying solo tonight, Sam. ’Bout to slide in some good sista pussy.” He slapped Sam hard on the arm stating, “Know what I’m talkin’ ’bout!”

There was a pause.

Bone laughed, “I didn’t think so with ya no pussy getting ass.”

As Bone walked out of the bar, Big Sam downed his E&J and coke. He wiped his mouth and gritted his teeth. “Your ass won’t be saying that shit in a minute, you mark ass nigga,” he muttered. He then yelled, “Bartender, another one, and change that fucking channel.”

“Change your fucking attitude, you cheap liquor drinking no tippin’ ass nigga,” the woman hissed.

As Bone crossed the street, the October chill hit him, and he thought about how he should have had his skully to keep his head warm. As he neared his Monte Carlo SS, he noticed the lean to the opposite side. “A fuckin’ flat!” he mumbled.

When Bone reached the side of the car, he saw that the rear tire was down. “Shit!” he barked then pressed the keypad to unlock the trunk so he could get the jack and tire iron to change the tire.

Bone managed to get the flat tire off and began to think that he should have called one of the shorties to come change the tire while he sat in the bar chilling until they finished. But he was horny for the twenty-two year old who had no problem getting freaky, and knew that it would have taken longer to call someone to do something he could do himself.

Bone put the spare tire on and was standing at the rear of the car about to throw the flat in when two well-built women got out of their car and were about to step into the rib joint when they stopped for a moment and flashed a million dollar smile at Bone. With pussy already on his mind, the fall mini-skirt wearing whores had got his attention. He smiled as they waved, and he was about to speak until he heard click. It was a sound he’d heard many times before as he pulled the trigger on a poor soul.

“Turn slowly, Puta!” Bone knew the voice and he did as he was told.

Bone said, “I thought we were runnin’ together, Chavez, what’s this shit?” he said as he faced an all black sweat suit wearing Chavez and his best friend, Mr. .44 Magnum.

“We were, but you gots to go, and I ain’t with the talking. You took my kids’ mom’s life, and I’ve waited for this moment. This shit is ’bout to be better than sex!”

“Oh, so you think I killed your babies’ mom?” Bone asked with bass in his voice. He was showing no fear.

“I know you did, and it’s time for you to die.”

A couple had come out of the rib joint that was next to the bar. The woman saw a hooded man pointing a pistol at another man, and she instinctively screamed. Bone knew the high pitched sound would capture the attention of people, most importantly, Big Sam, who was strapped.

“I didn’t kill your baby momma, but maybe I do know who did, let’s talk about this shit.”

“Your time is up, Bone. Your boy, Reynard, gave me your whereabouts tonight.” Chavez saw the worry lines on Bone’s forehead. “Yeah, that’s right. I know you pulled the trigger and you would have been dead while you were changing that tire, but I wanted my face to be the last you saw. This is for my kids and their momma!”

Bone knew if Reynard was in on the hit, it meant he was just like most street gangsters who played the role of second. If the opportunity arises, they will do what they have to do to stand at the top of the food chain of hustling. It also explained why Big Sam had not come out to help. The gangster in Bone decided to go out like a champ. “You know what, Chavez? How do you think I knew where she worked? I had met her ass, got close so I could kill her, but the week before I had fucked her,” he said calmly.