Commit to Violence (2 page)

"What the fuck?" Luke said.

Kenny looked back. "Here they come again," he yelled as the 350 rammed them again. "Get us out of here," Kenny encouraged.

Luke stepped on the gas and tried to get away from the truck, but the truck kept coming. The 350 slammed into their car again. The force of the impact forced Luke to hit his head on the steering wheel.

The truck stayed on the car’s tail and ran it off the street into a telephone pole. Kenny and Luke jerked forward and were forced back by the impact of the airbags. Three men got out of the truck armed with AK-47s and opened fire. Luke got out of the car and was immediately hit in the shoulder. Luke dropped his gun. Then he caught another round in his thigh. Luke went down.

Still dazed from the collision, Kenny got out of the car. He got off a couple shots and then tried to get away from there, firing as he ran. The three men fired back and followed. When Kenny turned to fire again all three men let loose, and Kenny fell to the ground.

He was dead.

CHAPTER THREE

Rain Robinson walked through the crowd at JR’s on the way to her office. She had taken over the club after her father, Jasper Robinson, died from complications of a stroke. JR was old school; a gambler that ran a few spots, including two major ones. The biggest was located in a warehouse that made machine parts, and another in the basement of the club. With her father dead and her having no interest at all in gambling, Rain turned over JR’s gambling spots to Nick for ten percent off the top. She preferred to make her money in the dope game; which was something that her father disapproved of while he was alive, and she promised Nick she was done with.

For the most part, things were going well for Rain. At twenty-three, she was the queen in her world, and Nick was her king. She was introduced to Nick in that very office by her father. "Nick, this is my daughter Lorraine. Lorraine, this is Nick Simmons, he’s an associate of Mike Black."

Rain sat behind what was now her desk and remembered how she smiled that night—like somebody told her that she had just hit the number. "I’ve heard a lot about you, Mr. Simmons. It’s an honor to meet you."

"It’s Nick, and it’s good to meet you too, Lorraine."

She got wet from just the sound of his voice. "Call me Rain."

At the time, Nick was trying to rundown the bandits who robbed one of their legitimate businesses and killed two people. Nick heard that some of JR’s people might have been involved. Rain saw it as her opportunity to get close to him and settle a few things of her own. "I can take you to the place where they hang out."

"I don’t need you to take me anywhere," Nick told Rain that first night. "You just need to tell me who they are and where to find them."

"No deal."

"What you mean, ‘no deal?’ This ain’t no fuckin’ negotiation," Nick said. "You gonna tell me what I need to know and I’ll take care of it."

"Good luck findin’ them without me then," Rain said. She knew respect isn’t given, respect had to be earned. And she had to earn Nick’s. "Look, Nick, these is my people. I’m the one needs to make this right. Not you, me. So here’s how it’s gonna go. Me and you gonna roll by they spot, and I’m gonna handle my family’s business."

It began there, but it didn’t go down easy, at least not at first. "If the mutha fuckas that robbed my joint belong to you, and you wanna put your house in order, that’s cool. You call me when you put a bullet in their brain."

"Look, nigga, I’ma say this one more time. Only mutha fuckin’ thing I can tell you is that this nigga be hearin’ shit. Now if that ain’t good enough for you then pull this bitch over and let me out. I’m tryin’ to help your mutha fuckin’ ass and you givin’ me this shit ’bout it."

Rain had to laugh when she thought back on their first night together. She picked up the remote and turned on the big screen. A porno flick called
2 Ho’s and a Bro
with Jada Fire, Havana Ginger, and Nat Turner exploded on the screen. She liked watching porn; it got her in the mood for Nick when he came by the club to check on the gambling operation.

She sat there waiting on Nick to come fuck her, watching the flick and thinking about the first time they had sex. How she felt her nipples brush against his chest. She knew that she wasn’t the prettiest woman, but her body made men weak. Rain remembered Nick’s eyes meeting hers then dropping to her titties. Rain touched his face and then she kissed him. When Nick stepped away from her he saw somebody at her window with a gun ready to shoot.

Nick grabbed Rain by the shoulders and pushed her down behind the couch. As the gunmen pumped bullets through her window, they stared into each other eyes. "I want to fuck you so bad," Rain said while the bullets flew over them.

When the shooting stopped Rain jumped up and ran toward the front door. She grabbed a gun from the lamp table by the door and ran out after her would-be assassins, firing wildly in their direction as the two men ran down the street.

It fascinated her sometimes how violence, especially gunplay, turned her on and made her want to fuck, but it did.

There was a knock at the door.

Rain had installed a series of security devices since she’d taken over. That included a camera outside her office. She picked up the remote and changed the display on the big screen.

There stood Blue Claxton, who ran the gambling in the basement of the club. He was one of the few people that Nick allowed to stay after he took over. Rain assured Nick that Blue was a very loyal soldier to JR, and she thought that he could be trusted to represent her interest in the operation. Rain pressed a button to allow him to come in the office. "What up, Blue?"

"Ain’t nothing," Blue said and went straight to the bar.

"Pour me one too."

"Patrón?"

"For sure."

Blue poured the drinks and handed the Patrón to Rain. "I hear Jay Easy got out," he said and sat down in one of the chairs in front of her desk.

"I heard that too. So, how’s it goin’ tonight?" she asked and took a sip.

"Mutha fucka hit us for ten grand tonight at the crap table and bounced. Come to find out he was playin’ with loaded dice," Blue informed her and shot his drink.

Rain seemed unconcerned. "Nick will be here in a minute. Make sure you tell him."

"Tell Nick?"

"What; you ain’t hear me? Tell Nick."

"You don’t give a fuck about this shit, do you?"

"We got cameras everywhere so I know we got video on this mutha fucka. If he’s out there to be got, Nick’s people will get him."

"Nick’s people? Damn it, Rain, this is your shit! Your daddy and Jeff Ritchie worked hard buildin’ this business; too hard for you to just give it away to that nigga."

Rain opened her desk drawer and was about to pick up her gun. Then she looked at Blue and closed the drawer. "I ain’t gonna get into this shit with you, Blue. I got too much other shit on my mind to have you fuckin’ wit’ me."

"So I heard."

Rain lit a cigarette and blew the smoke in Blue’s face. "What you heard?"

"I know all about your little dope business. You know your daddy didn’t like that kind of business."

"My father is dead."

"And I know he must be rollin’ over in his grave ’bout the shit you doin’."

"What you know about what I’m doing?"

"You mean other than givin’ away your father’s business? I know that you took that money and used Nick’s connections to get yourself in business with Bruce Stark."

With two of his former partners, Kevin "K Murder" Murdock and Steven "Cash Money" Blake, dead, and Billy "BB" Banner in the wind, Stark was in a rebuilding phase. Rain saw that as an opportunity. She went to Stark with a proposal.

"Look, nigga. I know you tryin’ to recover from your little Commission fallin’ apart."

"What business is that of yours?" he asked her.

"I could help you with that. I got the money and the people in place to step into that void."

"You?"

"Yeah, me, mutha fucka. What, you don’t think I can handle mine?"

"It ain’t that I don’t think you can handle your business. I heard some things about you, so I know you can. But you’re with Nick now."

"What that got to do with this?"

"I know you two are partners in your father’s gambling joints."

"And?"

"And I gave my word to Black that I wouldn’t involve him in any of my thing."

"Come on now, Stark, don’t bullshit me. I know Black got his hand in your business."

"You don’t know shit," Stark told her.

Rain didn’t like the way he said it. It was like he didn’t respect her or her position.

"Black don’t have shit to do with my business and I’m not gonna sit here and explain it to you. If you was all that you play it like you are to Nick, you’d know what the deal is between me and Black."

Rain took a deep breath and picked up the gym bag she had with her. She sat it on the table and opened it. "You mean to tell me that you gonna let this money walk out of here tonight?"

Stark leaned forward and looked in the bag. He got up and went to the bar he had setup in the corner of the room. "You want a drink?"

"Patrón if you got it," Rain answered.

While Stark poured he thought about the bag of money sitting on his coffee table. He knew Rain was right; in the position he was in, he couldn’t let that much money walk. He handed Rain her drink and sat down. "What you gonna do when Nick finds out about what you’re doin’?"

"Who gonna tell him? You? I know I ain’t gonna tell him a mutha fuckin’ thing."

"You know word gets around on the street. Sooner or later the nigga is gonna hear that Double R is back. And she out there with product."

Rain sat back in her chair and took a sip of her drink. Stark was right about that, niggas will talk. She thought for a minute. "Niggas won’t know it’s me behind this shit. All they’ll hear ’bout is some nigga named PR."

"PR?"

"That’s right, nigga, PR. They’ll think it’s some Puerto Rican mutha fucka or some shit like that. They won’t even know if it’s a man or a woman."

"This can’t come back on me in any way, Rain."

"Trust me, nigga, it won’t," Rain assured him.

"It better not, because if you fuck up my business with Black, I’ll—"

Rain leaned forward. "What you gonna do, nigga?"

Stark leaned forward and zipped up the bag. He got up and took the bag with him. Rain sat quietly and watched as Stark handed the bag to one of his men.

"See Moon on your way out, he’ll take care of you. From here on, you deal with him. You and I don’t talk anymore. And one more thing—"

"What’s that?" Rain frowned.

"You have no credit here. No money, no product," Stark said and went in another room and closed the door behind him.

Rain stood up. "Nice doin’ business with you."
Bitch nigga,
she said to herself and went on with Moon that night.

For a while things went smoothly. Money was flowing and she was able to keep any knowledge of her involvement in the game from Nick.

That ended the week before when somebody robbed two of her spots. She had lost five of her people. Murdered; execution style. They were killed on their knees with their hands tied behind their backs. Then the killers shot them twice in the head. Rain knew that she would have to deal with that, but not that night.

That night she had smoked a blunt, had a couple of shots of Patrón and was waiting on Nick to come knock her back out. She wasn’t in the mood for any shit from Blue.

"Why don’t you worry about runnin’ these spots and makin’ this money and let me do what I do. Unless you tired of makin’ this money," Rain said.

"You don’t get it, do you, Rain?" Blue said and dropped his head. "You never did." Blue finished his drink and stood up. "It ain’t always about the money."

"You sound like a fuckin’ fool. What’s it about, if it ain’t about the money?"

"It’s about honor and loyalty to the people you got history with. Not that mutha fucka Black. We don’t need them niggas. We did just fine without them all these years."

"Don’t make me regret keepin’ you around, Blue," Rain said and put her hand on her gun again.

"Keep me around?" He started walking toward the door. "Maybe when you get a little older you’ll realize that you can’t just use people and throw them away when you’re done with them."

"Whatever, nigga," Rain said. She was startled by a loud banging on her office door. She looked at the big screen and saw Mixson, one of her dealers, leaning against the door.

Rain pressed the button and Mixson fell in the office. Rain jumped up and Blue rushed to him. Blue pulled him in the office while Rain closed the door. Blue helped Mixson into a chair. Rain looked down and saw the trail of blood; then she noticed the cuts on his face and knew that she’d gotten hit again.

"What happened?" she asked.

"There were four of them; caught us by surprise."

"How’d you get away?" Rain wanted to know, since nobody had survived the other two robberies.

"I just started bustin’ shots and when the shit got too thick, I jumped out the window."

"So you don’t know what happened, do you?" Rain asked and picked up the phone. When she got no answer she dialed another number and got the same result. She turned back to Mixson. "I guess they’re all dead."

Blue looked at Rain. "So is he."

CHAPTER FOUR

Bobby Ray held up Rawls’ head and hit him again. He was tied to a chair and for the last hour, Bobby had been hitting him in his face, his chest, and his arms. No matter how much or how hard Bobby hit Rawls, he hadn’t said a word.

Mike Black sat quietly and watched Bobby work. Every once and awhile he would get up and ask Rawls the question. "Where is Ebony Washington, and where are the papers she was carrying?" When Rawls didn’t answer, Black would walk away and Bobby would go back to work.

Black sat down and took a deep breath. He thought about the reason he even knew or cared who Ebony Washington was. It was just after eleven o’clock when Black got a call from Martin Marshall. Martin was a United States Congressman who Black was in business with.

"Black, it’s Martin. I need your help."

"What is it now, Martin?" Black asked.

"One of my people was kidnapped earlier tonight, while she was carrying some very important papers."

"What does this have to do with me, Martin?"

There was silence on the phone before Martin finally said, "The truth is I got careless, Black."

"Get to the point, Martin."

"You remember our meeting with Chang and the Cubans?"

"What about it?" Black said and thought back to that meeting and how it led to him getting shot. He remembered Martin coming to him with a plan to invest in sugar-based ethanol in Cuba.

They met a few days later in the Bahamas with Silvestre de la Toribio representing the Cuban Foreign Trade Ministry, Soberón Nicodemo Plácido representing the Cuban Sugar Industry, and Maximino Cristóbal. He was representing a group with oil interests in Venezuela.

At that meeting the debate raged on about whether to invest in sugar-based ethanol or in oil production between Cristóbal and Plácido, until Chang had heard enough. "Would you gentlemen excuse us for a moment or two?"

Once Cristóbal, Plácido, and Toribio left the room, Chang turned to Martin. "What do you think my friend?"

"For my money, ethanol production is the only way to go. I didn’t come here to talk about oil."

"I must say that I agree. What do you say, Jiang?"

"Ethanol is the future, and we must look to the future."

"What about you, Mr. Black?" Martin asked and all eyes turned to him.

"Like the man said, when the oil is gone, it’s gone. You can always grow more sugar cane."

"Then we are in agreement," Chang said and stood up. He went to the door and asked the others to come in. Once they had reclaimed their seats, Chang told them of their decision. "At this time, gentlemen, we feel that it is in our long-term interest to make our investment in ethanol production."

Plácido and Toribio shook hands and seemed to be very happy with the decision. But Cristóbal, on the other hand, was not. He rose to his feet. "I think you gentlemen are making a big mistake." The next time Black saw Cristóbal was the day he got shot.

"You remember that I was taking notes," Martin said. "Well, when I got back, Ebony, my assistant, the one they kidnapped, she got my notes and created a memo of that meeting and filed the memo in a folder called Cuban meeting."

"Damn, Martin, how could you let some shit like that happen?"

"I’m sorry, but now you see why you have to help me get those papers back. Your name is all over that memo. You know what will happen if it becomes public that a United States Congressmen and a gangster were meeting with officials of the Cuban government in violation of American-Foreign policy? You said it yourself, it’s illegal. Treason-type of illegal."

"You know who got her?" Black asked.

"I don’t know who they are, but I have an idea where they might be. When they called about the ransom, they stayed on the line too long, and I was able to trace the call." Martin gave Black the address where the call was made.

"Okay, Martin, I’ll get your memo back," Black said.

"And the woman too," Martin insisted.

"What’s more important; the memo that’ll send us to prison for treason, or the woman?"

"Both. Ebony is very important to me. I love her, Black."

"Wait a minute, Martin. These guys kidnapped your mistress? Do they even know what she was carrying and what it means to you?"

"It’s possible, but I doubt it," Martin said. "That means you need to get to them before they read it."

When they arrived at the address Martin gave them, Black and Bobby went to the door and Rawls was coming out. He was carrying a woman’s coat and one shoe. Both matched the description that Martin had given Black of what Ebony was wearing when they had dinner earlier that evening. They forced Rawls inside at gunpoint, tied him to a chair and searched the house. Ebony wasn’t there. That was over an hour ago, and they were no closer to finding her.

Bobby hit Rawls in the face and took a step back. He looked down at Rawls’ feet. "Those some nice kicks there. What kind are they?" Bobby asked.

"Stacy Adams," Rawls mumbled.

"Can I see them?" Bobby asked and knelt down to take the shoes off. He walked over to where Black was sitting. "These some bad-ass kicks, Mike. I gotta get me a pair of these." He turned back to Rawls. "What size are these?" But Rawls was too out of it to answer.

"I don’t think he’s paying you any attention, Bob," Black said and laughed.

"Hey asshole," Bobby yelled and threw a shoe at him. "I’m talkin’ to you." The shoe hit Rawls in the face, but he still didn’t answer.

"Told you." Black laughed. "He doesn’t respect you, Bob. He thinks that you’ll get tired of hitting him and you’ll go away, and he won’t have to tell you shit."

Bobby walked up to Rawls, picked up the shoe and hit him in the face with it.

"What are you—his mother now? Beatin’ him with a shoe," Black laughed, but Bobby didn’t seem amused. He was getting frustrated with Rawls. Bobby was doing some of his best work, and he hadn’t said a word.

"You think you a tough son of a bitch, don’t you?" But Rawls still didn’t answer. "Well, dickhead, we’ll see just how tough you are in a minute," Bobby said and walked away. "You wait right there."

"Where you goin’?" Black asked.

"Garage."

There was silence in the room for a minute or two before Black got up and dragged the chair he was sitting in closer to Rawls.

Rawls raised his head and looked at Black. He knew Black was right about him. Rawls was counting on Bobby getting tired. Rawls figured that after a while Black, who appeared not to think that he was going to talk, would pull Bobby off and go try to find Ebony without his help. But Rawls had no idea who he was dealing with, or what they were capable of doing to get what they wanted.

"You know it’s only gonna get worse from here, right?" Black said. "I mean, he’s gonna come back from that garage with some bazaar shit to beat your ass with. You know that, right? Now I’ve known Bobby for a long time, and I know he’s not gonna stop until you tell us what we wanna know. Save yourself a lot of pain and tell me where Ebony Washington is, and where are the papers she was carrying. ’Cause once he gets started, I may not be able to stop him."

Bobby came back in the room carrying a sledgehammer and an ax. "Too late for that shit now, Mike. He done fucked around and made a nigga mad."

"I tried to warn you," Black said and moved out of Bobby’s way.

"I don’t give a fuck if you don’t say another word. You gonna die slow, bloody and painful tonight." Bobby dropped the ax and swung the sledgehammer over his head and brought it down on Rawls’ kneecap.

Rawls screamed and Bobby hit him in the other knee- cap.

"That sounds like it hurts," Black said. "I think you better tell this nigga something."

"Fuck that, Mike. He ain’t got to say shit to me for the rest of the night," Bobby said as he hit Rawls in the chin. "I’m about to go Kunta Kinte on his ass." Bobby dropped the sledgehammer, knelt down in front of Rawls and pulled off his sock. Then he shoved the sock in Rawls’ mouth. "The time for talkin’ is over." Bobby got in Rawls’ face. "It’s party time."

"Look at him, Bobby. He’s all confused and bothered. I don’t think he knows what you’re gonna do. I mean, I don’t think he saw
Roots
."

Bobby picked up the ax. "Well, he’s about to find out." He knelt down in front of Rawls again and grabbed Rawls’ ankle. "This is gonna hurt."

"No shit," Black said as Bobby brought the ax down and chopped off Rawls’ toes.

As Rawls grimaced in pain and the blood oozed out of what was left of his foot, Bobby went in the kitchen and came back with a knife. Then he ripped the sleeves off of Rawls’ shirt and made long incisions down his arms. "Now we gonna see if you bleed to death before I cut your throat."

Mike walked back over to Rawls. "You sure you don’t want to tell me where Ebony Washington is and where the papers she was carrying are?" he asked, but didn’t bother to take the sock out of his mouth.

"Mike!"

"What?"

"If you not gonna help, get the fuck out my way."

Black shrugged his shoulders and took two steps back. Bobby stepped in front of Rawls and began punching him in the face with hard lefts and rights. Once his hands started hurting, Bobby picked up the sledgehammer and began ramming it into Rawls’ chest. Rawls could hear his ribs cracking. Slowly he began to realize that he was going to die, just the way Bobby said he would, slow, bloody and painful.

"Damn, Bob. I heard that shit. I think you broke his ribs," Black said.

"You wanna hear bones breakin’? Watch this," Bobby said and came down with the hammer on Rawls’ arm with so much force that it broke the arm of the chair. Rawls opened his eyes and looked at the blood and his bone sticking out of his arm. He bit down harder on the sock because the pain had become more than he could stand.

Bobby walked around to the other side of the chair and was about to do the same to the other arm when Rawls pushed the sock out of his mouth with his tongue. "Okay—okay, shit! I’ll tell you what you wanna know."

"Fuck that!"

Bobby raised the hammer over his head, but Black grabbed his arm. "Let’s hear what the man has to say, Bob."

"Okay," Bobby said, but as soon as Black let go, Bobby brought the hammer down on Rawls’ other arm. While he screamed in agony, Black looked at Bobby and shook his head. "No point wasting a good swing."

Once again, Black pulled his chair closer to Rawls. "Where is she?"

"Brooklyn—in a house on Sterling Street. They got her in the basement."

"How many men are with her?" Black asked.

"Three: two upstairs, one in the basement watching her."

"What’s the plan?"

"I’m supposed to meet them there later with the money, and then we’ll let her go."

"Good man. Now where are the papers she was carrying?"

"I don’t know," Rawls said. He really didn’t know. He had no idea what papers Black was asking him about all night. All he knew was that when they brought her in, she wasn’t carrying anything.

"I’m getting tired of this," Black said and stood up. He kicked Rawls in the chest and the chair fell over. Black went in the kitchen and got the biggest pot he could find. He went to the sink and filled the pot with water.

Black came back to the living room to find Bobby standing over Rawls kicking him in the face. "Bobby!"

"What?"

"I’m in the middle of something here," Black said and stood over Rawls with the pot of water in his hands.

"Sorry."

When Bobby stepped aside, Black started to pour the water slowly in Rawls’ face. Rawls turned his head to one side, trying to keep the water from going in his mouth and up his nose.

"Hold his head, Bobby."

"But I’ll get wet," Bobby laughed.

"Bobby!"

"All right, all right, you don’t have to yell," Bobby said and kicked Rawls again. Then he got down and grabbed his face with both hands. Black tilted the pot slowly and water began to rush down on Rawls’ face. With Bobby holding his head, he couldn’t avoid the rushing water. When the pot was empty, Bobby stood up and kicked Rawls again.

Black dropped the pot and knelt down next to Rawls. "Where are those papers?"

"In the garage." Rawls thought if she had the papers when his men took her that, that was the only other place that he could think the papers might be. At this point, Rawls was ready to tell them anything they wanted just to get them to stop. "Trunk of my car," he said, still gasping for air and spitting water out of his mouth.

"Thank you," Black said and stood up. "Let’s go," he said to Bobby and they headed for the garage.

"Hey! Wait a minute. You can’t leave me like this," Rawls yelled until he heard the door close.

"Water boarding?" Bobby asked. "That was your big move?"

"Hey, if fuckin’ Dick Cheney can do it, so can I. Besides, it worked, didn’t it?"

Black went around to the back of the car and shot out the lock in the trunk. He picked up the briefcase and opened it. Black quickly flipped through the papers until he found the one he was looking for. He started to leave. "Wait a minute, Mike."

"What?"

"You just gonna leave him in there?"

"Yeah. He’ll bleed to death, and that’ll be that."

"Yeah, but suppose somebody comes lookin’ for him?"

"You’re right," Black said, took out his gun and went back in the house. He walked over to Rawls and stood over him.

"Thank you," Rawls mumbled.

Black raised his gun and shot Rawls twice in the head. "You’re welcome."

When they arrived in the house where Ebony Washington was being held, Bobby parked the car in front of the house and turned to Black. "So what’s your plan?"

"I been thinkin’ about that. Thinkin’ what would Monika do?"

"Shit, sexy one-eye would blow the place up and tell Martin that we couldn’t save his ho."

"I thought about that too. I mean, we got the important shit and that was the memo."

"Right."

"But I promised Martin that I’d bring her back alive. He’s in love with her," Black said and got out of the car.

"Since I ain’t plannin’ on dyin’ for love, what you gonna do? You just gonna open the gate, walk up the steps, ring the bell and ask them to send her out?"