The Glamorous Life (29 page)

To keep the commotion down, Lynx told Bambi about her. “You don’t mind if I give Lisa a few pennies from time to time, do you?”

“Who is Lisa?”

Lynx looked at Bambi like she was being funny. “Stop tripping. You know the broad that was coming to see me when I was locked up.”

“She don’t have a job? I mean, why you gotta give her money?”

“I don’t have to, but she did invest a lot of time with me, when I was on lock. She could never understand why I chose to dismiss her after the day fate put us back together.”

Bambi heard every word Lynx said and knew he made sense, but she said, “Fuck that bitch Lisa! Let her find her own man or get a J-O-B!”

“I know, but I feel kinda guilty how I rolled out and shorty cool.”

She knew that Lynx’s mind was made up, so all she could say was, “Okay, but make sure that bitch know your wife is crazy and I don’t want to have to kill her and you.”

Lynx smiled and agreed.

CHAPTER 28

New Year’s Eve

A
s the year came to an end, Lynx promised Bambi that his dealing and street life would end with the old year. In the new year, they planned to settle down and live like an ordinary couple with a house with a picket fence and travel and enjoy life together.

While there were a number of places Lynx and Bambi preferred to be on New Year’s Eve rather than Richmond, Bambi had no choice; her company had secured a city contract to organize over ten major parties. A few were gala events, while others were more casual. She decided to attend the party where Lynx and his boys felt the most comfortable. This party marked Lynx’s return to major party life since coming home more than nine months ago. There were so many folks trying to hug, speak, and politic with Lynx. One person in particular he made eye contact with was his old friend Ronnie. Ronnie was the person he had entrusted with his money when he and Cook’emup were locked up. Ronnie had played his position for many
years to gain Lynx’s trust. It was true that over the years he had stolen from Lynx, but it had never really been enough to draw Lynx’s attention. When Lynx took his fall, he had put over half a million dollars in Ronnie’s hands. And Ronnie had robbed Lynx of every cent. When the two locked eyes, murder was written all over Lynx’s face, while fear ruled Ronnie’s glassy eyes. Even though Ronnie was as high as any dope fiend could be on New Year’s Eve, the look he’d gotten from Lynx told him there was a good probability he would be the first murder victim in Richmond in the new millennium.

T
he party was jumping, and the liquor was pouring. Egypt and Ruby were having a ball mingling with the crowd. Everywhere Bambi turned she seemed to run into some of everybody she knew. When she was coming out of the restroom, she came face-to-face with Smooth. This was the first time she had seen him since she left him in the hotel parking lot buck, bald naked.

“What’s up, baby? Can I holla at you for a minute?” he asked, licking his lips.

“Why the fuck you did that shit to my momma?”

“Because the drunk bitch deserved it. I couldn’t get to you, so why not get to you through the one you love?”

She spit on him. He laughed. Then he wiped it off, put her spit in his mouth, and licked his fingers.

“Bitch, if you ever spit on me again, I’ll beat the shit out of you,” he said, pointing his finger in her face.

“You would try to fight me, wouldn’t you? Why can’t you pick on someone your size?”

He looked her up and down and said, “As a matter fact,
bitch, give me my boots back now!” She had forgotten that she was wearing the boots that Smooth had bought her years ago and although they were ugly to her years ago they surely set off her outfit this night. “Give me my fucking boots now.”

“Wait on it, motherfucka,” she said, turning to walk off.

He pushed her to the ground from behind and tried to physically take the boots off her feet. Two guys in the crowd intervened, and he hit one of them. With no hesitation they started to beat him down, and before anyone knew what was happening, security was on the scene.

Lynx didn’t get a whiff of what was going on across the club until everything was over and Smooth and the guys who had defended Bambi had been thrown out of the club.

L
ater that night, after Lynx tucked Bambi in and she was fast asleep, he and Cook’em-up talked. “Man, this clown Smooth got to go.”

“Man, I feel you. That stunt he pulled tonight was way out of order.”

“I need to get some info on him, because I am going to put his dick in the dirt, sho nuff,” Lynx said.

“Man, I can’t let you do that shit. You on papers, and the last thing I need is for you to get bagged again. I need you out here. It’s better that I take a fall than you. If you’re out here, then I know I’ll eat. So just chill and I’ll take care of things,” Cook’emup said.

“Thanks, man.” They gave each other dap.

As Cook’em-up headed to the door, he turned to tell Lynx, “Never think I’m doing this for her. It’s strictly for you. I still don’t trust her. I’ll kill for you because I know you would kill
for her. But with all my heart, I don’t believe she can be trusted; she just ain’t from the streets. She don’t know about the struggle.”

“Man, a broad ain’t got to be from the streets to understand struggle.”

Cook’em-up could feel his friend’s anger, so he let it go and said, “Okay, I’m going to get on top of things … for you.”

“’Preciate it, man.”

“It ain’t nothing, and if Ronnie crosses my path, I got him, too.”

“He ain’t nothing, man. He’s a dope fiend. He’ll eventually kill himself, one way or the other. All the drugs that clown shoot, his kidney and liver will eventually give out on ’im any day now.” Then Lynx smiled. “If he don’t run across a hot shot. He knows he fucked up, knows death is just around the corner for him anyway. Save yo bullets for Smooth.”

“A’ight,” Cook’em-up agreed.

CHAPTER 29

Date with Lucifer

O
n January third, Smooth stood in the John Marshall Courthouse to see if the judge would give him a continuance for the many sexual battery charges he faced. He had been going to court for over a year, putting off the case time and time again. His lawyer had warned him that the judge might revoke his bond if a continuance was requested. Either way he knew he could land in jail if convicted. Therefore, he was willing to risk asking for a continuance. Again the judge granted him another court date. “This case will be tried on January twenty-fifth, and if you are not ready to proceed, counselor, your client will sit in jail until you are,” the judge said.

“Thank you, Your Honor,” Smooth’s attorney said respectfully.

Smooth pimped out of the courtroom with triumph in his eyes, but Cook’em-up was singing a whole ’nother tune. Cook’em-up was glad he didn’t have to catch a petty charge to
go to jail just so he could shank Smooth; with the continuance, his work was going to be easier than he had imagined.

Smooth walked down the stairs of the court building and hopped in the car of the junkie he’d paid to drive him. There’d been no need to drive his own whip since there had been a chance he might get locked up.

“Take me to PJs,” he demanded before he had even closed the car door.

On his arrival he offered up some dap and rapped with the neighborhood hustlers. After he collected his debts, he bent the corner. Just as planned, Smooth and Cook’em-up bumped into each other.

“My bad, man,” Cook’em-up apologized.

“Nah, you good, shorty.”

Cook’em-up hadn’t had a haircut and was dressed in some old army fatigues with scuffed-up Timberland boots.

“Brotha man, you know someone who trying to buy a spanking-new nine millimeter? It’s brand-new, no bodies or nothing on this jank,” he said to Smooth, rubbing his nose and scratching, trying to put on his best dope fiend impersonation.

“You got dat?”

“Yup,” he told Smooth.

“What you want for it?”

“Two hundred,” Cook’em-up said, sniffling like a dope fiend.

“A’ight, where it at?”

Cook’em-up couldn’t believe he was selling Smooth his own death.
Damn fool.
He laughed to himself. Smooth wasn’t even strapped.

“Right here.” He put the clip in it and handed it to him. Smooth gave him $125. “Motherfucka, I don’t give no dope fiends fucking full price
for shit, as a matter of fact,” he said, and pointed the gun at Cook’em-up. “Give me my ma’fucking money back.”

Before Smooth realized that the clip was empty, Cook’emup was two steps ahead of him. Cook’em-up pulled his .40-caliber and shot Smooth in the head,
bloom,
and then two to the heart:
bloom, bloom!

The .40-caliber echoed between the apartments. Cook’emup threw down some dope and a few dollars beside Smooth and walked away.

L
ater that night while Bambi and Lynx lay in the bed watching the eleven o’clock news, the reporter said: “On the city’s Church Hill, the second murder of the New Year. In what seems to have been a drug deal gone bad, one man was left dead. There are no suspects or known witnesses. If you have any information on this or any other crime call Crime Stoppers at 1-800-STOP CRIME.”