The Fix 2 (18 page)

“Handle your business. I'm good.” Persia told him.

“Promise me that you won't leave until we've had a chance to finish our little discussion.”

“I'm not making any promises, but I can't leave until Asia and Nya are ready to go anyhow, and from the looks of things they'll be awhile,” Persia said, glancing over at Nya and Asia who were both on the stage by that point.

“Fair enough. I'll see you in a bit,” Vaughn said before allowing the white girl to lead him through the crowd.

When Nya took the microphone everyone gathered around the stage to hear what she was saying. She went through a scripted speech about bringing awareness to teen suicide and some more stuff that Persia only half listened to. What made her really start paying attention was when Nya announced that they were about to start the celebrity auction. The bids to win a night with the celebrities ranged from as low as $1,000 to as high as $50,000. Persia shook her head at the display of thirst as men and women alike pledged ridiculous amounts of money to keep company with some of the celebrities who volunteered to be auctioned off. She was about to take a bathroom break, until Nya introduced the last celerity to be auctioned off. Her head almost spun around backward when Vaughn was brought onto the stage.

“Okay, ladies,” Nya began. “I'm going to need you to reach deep in those purses for this fine piece of eye candy. Some of you may know him from breaking records and hearts as the starting quarterback at Virginia Tech, but come this fall he'll be giving women and defenses fits on primetime television. So tell me, ladies, how much is it worth to you to spend a night with Philadelphia Eagles rookie quarterback, Vaughn Tate?”

Persia was stunned. She couldn't move, nor speak. All this time she had been treating Vaughn like a pauper and he was really a prince. She felt like such a fool. Persia was so embarrassed that she wanted to crawl under a rock and die, but since a rock wasn't available she slipped out the back door. She felt bad about dipping out on Asia and Nya after they had shown her so much hospitality, but she would make it up to them at another time. All she was focused on at that moment was jumping in a cab and going home.

Roughly two hours after leaving three corpses on the Avenue, Li'l Monk was showered, changed, and back on the streets as if nothing had ever happened. He had traded his bloodied black hoodie for a fresh gray one and blue jeans. He and Omega made it a point to always keep a spare outfit or two at each other's houses. They were always in the mix so you never could tell when they would have to make a quick change, much like that night.

The whole time Li'l Monk was getting ready, he replayed the series of events over in his head trying to make sense of them. Being down with Pharaoh made them all targets to enemies both known and unknown, but the strip was their save haven. Within those few blocks of territory they had always felt safe. No one would dare come into the heart of Pharaoh's empire and try something stupid, or so he thought. The fact that they had almost been whacked on their own block said different.

The three Spanish chicks coming through and trying to take them out was no random occurrence. They were specifically targeting for members of Ramses's street crew, but the question remained, why? Li'l Monk was certain that the blonde had been about to reveal something important before Omega had killed her, sending whatever secrets she was keeping to the grave with her. This bothered Li'l Monk, not because he didn't think Omega was capable of killing, but because he was usually the one who tried to avoid bloodshed when necessary. It wasn't like him to just commit coldblooded murder.

In truth, Omega had been acting strange for the past couple of weeks. He wasn't his normal happy-go-lucky self. Lately he had been especially irritable and quick to anger. Li'l Monk initially attributed it to the extra responsibilities Ramses had placed upon him. With Benny dead and Chucky a fugitive, Ramses leaned more heavily on Omega to handle the day-to-day operations of their businesses in West Harlem. Since Li'l Monk also had to take on extra responsibilities he could definitely understand Omega being affected by the added job stress, but it felt like there was something deeper that was causing the changes in his friend. Maybe he was becoming power drunk with his new position or even possibly beginning to crack under the added pressure. Li'l Monk wasn't sure what it was, but something felt off and the way he had shot that girl added to Li'l Monk's suspicions.

The designated meeting area was a steak house on Fifty-seventh Street. Li'l Monk had been there several times, as it was one of Ramses's favorite places to eat as well as talk business. At that hour the restaurant was closed to the public, but not to Ramses.

When Li'l Monk and Omega arrived at the spot there was a small gathering of men in front of the joint. Some of them they recognized as a part of their organization, but the white dudes they didn't know. They wore jogging suits with gold chains and had heavily gelled hair. They were stereotypical Italians. This struck Li'l Monk as odd, because for as long as he had been working for Ramses he rarely saw him deal with white people at all, and here was a group of them congregating outside the restaurant.

Li'l Monk led the way toward the entrance of the restaurant. To his surprise and amusement, one of the Italians moved to cut him off. He was a bear of a man, whose jogging suit looked a half size too small.

“Something I can help you with?” Li'l Monk looked him up and down.

“Gotta check you for weapons before I let you pass,” the Italian bear told him.

“Homeboy, if you put your hands on me I'm going to break them,” Li'l Monk growled. He had been having a shitty day and didn't have time for foolishness. He had expected the warning to be enough to persuade the bear to step aside, but it wasn't. He held his ground, ready to challenge Li'l Monk. Before the situation could escalate, Huck appeared in the doorway.

“Nah, they're good,” Huck told the bear. The bear gave Li'l Monk one last hard look before stepping aside to let him pass. “Sorry about that.” Huck greeted Li'l Monk and Omega with handshakes.

“What the fuck was that all about?” Li'l Monk asked.

“Difficult times we're in so everybody is a little bit on edge,” Huck explained.

“Tell me about it,” Li'l Monk said, thinking of the attempt on his and Omega's lives earlier.

“Come on in the back. Ramses is waiting for you.” Huck led them inside.

Li'l Monk and Omega made their way through the empty dining tables to the private booth that Ramses kept on reserve in the back of the restaurant. As they got closer they saw that Ramses wasn't alone. Standing next to him, just outside the booth was King Tut. When he and Li'l Monk locked eyes you could instantly feel the spark of hostility that passed between them.

Sitting across from Ramses was a handsome Italian with dark skin and wavy black hair. The salmon-colored suit he wore clung to his body perfectly as if it had been created just for him. When they Italian noticed Huck leading the two young black kids to the back, he abruptly stopped ended whatever conversation he and Ramses had been having.

When Ramses spotted Li'l Monk and Omega he waved them over. “About time you two got here,” he said in the way of a greeting.

“We got held up in traffic,” Li'l Monk said sarcastically, which got him a serious look from Ramses. He was obviously in no mood for jokes.

“Boys, this is Frank Donatello,” Ramses introduced them to the Italian.

The Italian didn't bother to try to shake hands, instead offering a simple nod in greeting. “My friends call me Frankie the Fish.”

“You want me to pull up some extra chairs?” Huck asked Ramses.

“Nah, Frankie was just leaving,” Ramses told him.

“Yeah, I've got a few more people to see before I can turn in for the night. Thanks for the meal and your time.” Frankie shook hands with Ramses before standing to leave.

“Anytime, Frankie. I look forward to a prosperous working relationship between our two families,” Ramses said.

“As do I. Maybe next time Pharaoh will see fit to sit down with us. I'm not used to doing business with people who I have not looked in the eyes,” Frankie told him.

“My apologies for that, but Pharaoh has been extremely busy lately. I can assure you that I am authorized to speak for him in these matters though.”

“I guess your word will be good enough, for now,” Frankie said. He picked his salmon-colored fedora off the seat and placed it on his head, running his finger across the brim. “I guess I'll leave you boys to it. Nice meeting you fellas.” Frankie tipped the brim of his hat to Omega and Li'l Monk and left the restaurant.

“Sit down you two,” Ramses told Omega and Li'l Monk. They slid into the booth on the opposite side of Ramses and Tut. “Y'all been with me long enough to know how much I hate being kept waiting. What were you doing that was important that you couldn't come immediately when I called for you?”

“Sorry about that, but we were busy trying to keep our heads from getting blown off,” Li'l Monk told him then went on to tell the story about the chicks who had rolled through the block. He didn't miss the look that passed between Omega and Tut when he got to the part of the story about them being a carful of Spanish broads.

“Any idea who sent them?” Ramses asked. He seemed genuinely concerned.

“No, we never got a chance to find out.” Li'l Monk cut his eyes at Omega. He would never throw his partner under the bus, but he didn't try to hide his displeasure.

Ramses shook his head. “Wolves at our front and back doors. I'll get some people to look into it, but that'll have to wait. I got some other shit I need y'all to handle, but first, what's this business between you and Tut?”

Li'l Monk shrugged. “Ain't no business between me and Tut. One of his boys came through talking reckless so I had to discipline him.”

“You call putting a man in intensive care because you broke a half dozen of his bones discipline?” Tut asked heatedly.

“At least I didn't kill him. Be thankful for the small blessings,” Li'l Monk said sarcastically.

“I got a blessing for you.” Tut shot to his feet and Li'l Monk was immediately on his.

“Do I have to have Huck put the both of you on time-out?” Ramses looked from Li'l Monk to Tut. Just a look from him was enough to get them to both wisely retake their seats. “It's bad enough that we're beefing with niggas in the streets. I don't need my lieutenants trying to off each other, too.”

“I apologize, Ramses,” Tut said, still glaring at Li'l Monk.

“Me too,” Li'l Monk added, matching Tut's glare.

“Now, I need to know that this shit between y'all is dead and won't go any further,” Ramses told the both of them.

“So long as respect is given, I got no problems with Tut or any of his people,” Li'l Monk said.

“I'm cool, Ramses,” Tut agreed.

“Now that we've settled that, let's get on to a more pressing piece of business. A friend of the family was recently murdered in the Bronx,” Ramses revealed.

“Anybody we might know?” Li'l Monk asked.

“I don't think you two have ever met, but Omega knows him. His name was Petey Suarez.”

Li'l Monk saw Tut's body tense at the mention of the name. It was a small tell that had probably gone unnoticed by everyone else on the table, but Li'l Monk caught it.

“Say word somebody capped Petey?” Omega asked in fake shock. “Damn, and that was a cool-ass little dude. Why did he get clipped?”

“It's hard to say at this point. Petey had a hot temper and was always into some shit so it could've come from anywhere. I know he had been having some troubles with the Jamaicans and the Dominicans recently, but I can't say for sure where the hit came from. Before it's all said and done I'll find out though. Petey came from a very well-respected family and his uncle Poppito is was not happy to hear about his death,” Ramses said.

“Why does that name sound so familiar?” Li'l Monk thought out loud.

“Probably because it's always in the news. Poppito is the head of a powerful cartel based out of Old San Juan, Puerto Rico. Until recently our relationship has always been good with his cartel, but that all changed when his nephew died on my watch. When Petey's father died, I promised his uncle Poppito that I would do what I could to keep him out of harm's way, though with Petey that proved easier said than done. Every time I turned around Petey was into some shit and obviously his chickens finally came home to roost. Honestly, I'm surprised that it took this long for somebody to split Petey's wig. It's been a long time coming, but it doesn't change the fact that it happened right in our back yard and his uncle is demanding answers.”

“How can we help?” Omega asked.

“I need you to go to the Bronx and assist Poppito's people who are looking into the murder. Petey's whole crew was killed with him, but apparently there was a witness to the crime.”

“A witness?” Omega asked, not able to hide his surprise or discomfort.

“Yeah, the owner of the restaurant. Whoever killed Petey locked all the restaurant employees inside and set the whole place on fire in an attempt to cover their tracks, but two people survived. One of the waitresses and the restaurant owner. There's no sign of the waitress, but the owner is in the hospital. She was burned so bad that the doctors say it's a miracle that she survived.”

“A miracle indeed,” Omega said, looking at Tut. “So you want me and Li'l Monk to take care of it?”

“No, I got something else I need Li'l Monk to handle for me, so I'm sending you and Tut,” Ramses told him.

“Me?” Tut asked in surprise.

“Yes, you. The Bronx is your area so I figured you could be helpful in the investigation. Why, do you have a problem with what I'm asking you to do?”

“Not at all,” Tut said, trying to hide his nervousness.

“Good, I need y'all to get on that as soon as possible,” Ramses said.

“A'ight, we on it,” Omega assured him, standing to leave.

“Omega, I'm sure I don't need to tell you that this has to be handled with kid gloves, right? Poppito is livid about what happened to his nephew and as looking at everybody as a suspect, including us. With all the other shit we got going on, the last thing we need is to make an enemy of Poppito's cartel. Do what you can to put this shit to bed as quickly and as cleanly as possible.”

“I got you, Ramses. Let's make moves, Tut.” Omega started for the door. Tut slid out of the booth and fell in step behind him.

Ramses waited until they were gone to address Li'l Monk. “What I need you to do is a bit less complicated, but equally important.”

“Run it down to me.” Li'l Monk gave Ramses his undivided attention.

“As you've probably already figured out, we're working on improving our foreign relations with our spaghetti-eating friends from downtown,” Ramses said, speaking of the Italians.

“I wanted to ask you about that, but I didn't want to overstep my boundaries. I was always under the impression that you hated white folks.”

Ramses laughed. “Hate is a strong word. Let's just say I'm no fan of the so-called master race. Still, during these trying times we'll take our allies where we can get them, which is what has us crawling into bed with the Italians.”

“Ramses, what's going on? Are we about to go to war?” Li'l Monk asked.

“Son, we've been at war for years, but not in the traditional sense. It's like this, whenever you're in a position of power they'll always be people who want to remove you from that position. Me and Pharaoh been at this a long time, and we've fought hard to maintain our position as kings of the hill, but times are changing. This is no longer a game of gentleman, but a game of savages and snakes. Between this new breed of youngsters, who don't respect human life, and these spineless cowards that have made snitching an acceptable course of action, I fear we are approaching the end of an era.”