Smoke and Mirrors (49 page)

“What about when
she
was cryin’ out, huh?! She fuckin’ trusted you!” He punched him again, this time breaking that fucker’s nose. The same way he beat his wayward johns, he beat this man, only
this
time, he planned to add a little ‘extra’. His victim was rendered speechless as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. Smoke couldn’t get a hold of himself as he delivered more body shots, but then his inner voice told him to cease, or he’d surely kill the man. He got to his feet, all covered in blood and exhausted from the rapid arm-fire and legwork. He stumbled back, and looked down at the man he’d turned a crimson mess, then tossed the hundred-dollar bill in the air. It fluttered like a green leaf before landing in the blood pooling around the fucker’s neck.

“Traditional pimp code says,” Smoke huffed, “that when a woman chooses you over her old pimp, if you are worth a damn, you will give him a little money for his loss. Your niece is mine.” He pointed at him. “She’s worth more money than all the currency in the world, but this is more for a demonstration, if you will. And let me tell you why I chose a hundred dollar bill, over a dollar.” He smiled. “I did it because she told me one night that you had accused her of stealing a hundred dollars from you. She hadn’t, and you beat her ass so bad, she couldn’t walk for a damn week. Now, here’s your money, Uncle Troy. This is your first and
last
lesson in proper pimp etiquette. Be lucky I’m leaving here allowing you to still draw breath because I and everyone else who knows me, also knows there is
nothing
I’d like more than to wrap my hands around your greasy throat and choke the fucking shit out of you. And should you get any ideas, like wanting to snitch, or report this shit to the police, I’ll come back and finish the job. It’s nothing to me. On that, you have my word.”

He stormed out the door, hightailing to where he’d parked. As he suspected, a crowd had gathered around his unusual, expensive car. As soon as they saw him though, they began to disperse. After all, he matched the damn vehicle now, coated as he was in the blood of a mothafucka who got a taste of Smoke’s wrath.

You can fuck with his money and live. You can fuck with his time, and survive. But if you fuck with his woman, cause her any ounce of pain, you just may pay with your life…

*

The motherfucker walked
in shirtless, covered in sweat, and went straight to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. Paris heard the shower water turn on, bursting out at high speed. She stood outside the door, ready to wrap her knuckles around the knob, but… she thought better of it. When he’d first walked in the apartment, everyone seemed to spread out like the Red Sea. Smoke stormed down the middle of the damn entranceway, his car keys in hand. He slung them onto a nearby curio and disappeared into the lavatory. Now, here she remained, leaning against the wall, arms crossed and worry etched within her very soul.

What was he doing out there?

When he emerged, bare-chested, his hair was wet, and his eyes gleamed bright like a newborn’s.

“How’s it been? Everything okay?” he asked as he walked past her, making his way to the sitting area as he dried his hands with a plush hand towel.

“Well, for the most part it’s been quiet. The better question is, are
you
okay, Smoke? You peeled out of here and have been gone for hours.” She frowned.

“I’m fine. A little thirsty is all.” He sat down on the paisley silver and blue printed couch and ran his index finger along a shiny globe sitting nearby.

“I’ll get you some iced tea, is that good?”

He nodded, seeming to drift off into a daydream. She returned moments later, handed the man the glass, and sat beside him. He took a hearty gulp, then another, and set it down on the table in front of him.

“What are we going to do?” she asked, taking his hand into hers.

“We call his bluff.” He scratched the side of his nose then faced her. “You’re not paying him a dime, and I
will
be getting that fifty grand back, too. It’s the principle of the thing.”

She turned away and stared ahead at an enormous painting depicting a woman from the 1700s with her gown partially removed, and a male suitor sitting behind her, nibbling her neck.

“Smoke, he’s more dangerous than he may look. You see, Royal is a live wire. Like I told you, I was going to tell you.”

“I know you were; you don’t have to keep saying that. I believe you.”

She paused for a moment and gathered her thoughts. “Well, I was just trying to see if there was something I could do, solve the problem on my own, and once I realized I probably couldn’t, I made to share every damn detail with you. It’s my pride, Smoke. I’m humiliated by this. What gets me is, he and I never had any problems up until this point. Someone rattled his cage, and this mess is all my fault!” She gripped her forehead, sensing a migraine coming on. “You were right. I shouldn’t have told my girls. I wanted them to know that I wouldn’t cheat them, so I offered full disclosure. I’ve been treating them the way I’d want to be treated, if I were in their position. I got too comfortable, too trusting.”

Smoke nodded and kissed the side of her face.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it anymore, Paris. You live and learn. It got to the wrong people is all, and I’ll take care of it.”

“Yeah, but who? Who would do something like this?”

The man hesitated a fraction before he abruptly turned away. Smoke was keeping secrets again…

“You know,
don’t
you? Who did this to me, Smoke?! I have the right to know!” She punched her upper thigh with her fist. “Which one of them did this?!”

He turned towards her, an icy glare in his striking eyes. “One that’s already gone, Paris. Carla. That’s why Felicia was here, actually, to tell me about her.”

“Oh my God.” She shook her head, cursing her lack of judgment. “I should have known it would have gotten back to her. She called me at least two times trying to get back in, Smoke, and I refused each time.” She took a deep breath as she folded her hands across her lap. “I should have known she’d do something this devious. I picked that woman off the street. She was a mess! I took her in, cleaned her up and told her I’d help protect her. She’d had battles with crack cocaine, but there was something about her that endeared her to me…then she went and turned on me like I’d never lifted a finger to help her in my life.” She bent low, feeling a bit shaky as she simmered with anger and regret.

“Yup.” He slumped back onto the couch. “We’ve all done it at least a time or two, baby, but no worries.” He smiled weakly and patted her knee. “It will be fine. Now, in the interim, you are to go nowhere without Frank and the same for the girls.”

“Yes, you’ve told me that and I won’t.”

“If there is something they just
must
do, everyone is to have a security-cleared escort until further notice,” he reminded. The man must’ve told her that a hundred times, but only because he didn’t want a hair on their heads harmed.

“Yes, I understand.”

“I’m going to go home and change clothes, pack a few things up and return. I’ll be here with you, tonight, okay? And I’ll be back as quickly as possible.”

He rose from the couch and she joined him, smoothing out her oversized white shirt and flared, lime green pants she’d changed into earlier that afternoon.

“Wait a minute, Smoke. This reminds me. A long time ago you said that two of my girls chose you, and you turned them down. I know about Carla—who was the other one? I was too shocked, angry and out of it to ask at the time…”

“Vera.”

Vera was a woman who’d come and gone like the damn wind. Paris had almost forgotten all about the fickle, strange woman.

“Oh.” She shrugged. “No love lost there. She is already gone, anyway.”

Smoke nodded. “She just needed some direction. She would’ve been good, but never mind all of that; it’s over now.”

She took his hand as he walked to the door, and he pulled her to him, enveloping her face with both hands before placing a loving kiss across her lips. “I love you. Everything is going to be okay.” He kissed her nose tenderly, his lips lingering on the tip, oh so sweet, before he turned and walked away.

When had she started to depend on this man so much? And when had it stopped being an issue that she did?

“I love you too, Smoke. More than anything.”

She stood there watching, and said a silent prayer. One asking for direction, strength, and a shield of protection not only over her and the girls, but also for Smoke. She feared her love had become a volcano, ready to explode, but a nagging feeling took up residence within her, making her wonder: Had he already erupted?

*

One week later…

This bitch thinks
I’m playin’ with her!

Royal gripped the steering wheel of his silver and blue Eldorado, driving like a bat out of hell after discovering that not only had he not received his payment, the woman was over at her ho house, living it up. Time to pay the madam a visit.

He made sure to take his gun with him, to make his point crystal mothafuckin’ clear. First, he had the place scoped out to ensure the white boy wasn’t there. He had to act fast, for there was no telling when the jolly white giant would return. Arriving at the lavish den of iniquity, he pulled the clutch and parked his car against the curb. Once he stepped out, he didn’t miss the frenzy inside of the apartment building as if a big production were underway. It dazed him for a moment, stopped him dead in his damn tracks. Shadows darted past the windows, and a spotlight suddenly blazed across the opulent lawn, illuminating the bright yellow roses.

“Stop!” a male voice boomed over an intercom. “You are not cleared to enter.”

Royal bent at the waist in bursts of laughter as the dusky sky grew many shades darker.

“You gotta be kidding me!” He threw up his hands. “You all got some Robocop type shit goin’ on, huh?” He pointed at the building. “You tell Madam Your Highness that she
better
get her ass out here and give me my damn money! If she doesn’t, I will deliver on what I promised!” He ran his hand under his nose and inhaled.

“You are being asked once again to leave, Royal,” the voice rang out for a second time. Like a strike of lightning delivered from the Greek god, Zeus, he pulled out his 45 and shot the damn thing, causing wires to pop on the intercom. Soon, muffled screams erupted from inside the place, while the damn thing reduced to sparks and smoky embers. He took slow, heavy paces up the steps until he stood on the front porch, ready to party, ready to score, and ready to fight—refusing to be made a fool of one second longer. He banged on the door repeatedly, slamming his fist into it.

“Open this goddamn door, rich bitch!” he screamed. “You have to come out sooner or later. Look, don’t be afraid, Paris.” He stood back, flashing a grin as he raised his hands in surrender. “I won’t even charge you interest for being late. We’ll just call it an innocent mistake on your part. Even the bank waives your first overdraft!” He waited a few more seconds, and was met with nothing but silence.

“Even if I leave this damn house, do you
really
want to have to look over your shoulder all the time?” he growled, taking another step back. “You don’t, do you? Because I’ll be there! I will shoot all these ho ass bitches in their goddamn chest! And it’ll be all your goddamn fault! Give me my mothafuckin’ money!” Raising his gun in the air, he shot out a window, causing more screams. “I don’t give a fuck if Smoke knows, either! I’m not afraid of none of you mothafuckas!”

His adrenaline pumped out of control, fueled by anger and a feeling of no longer giving a flying fuck.

Just then, a shiny red, expensive car pulled up, its tires screeching. From a near distance, police sirens could be heard, blending into the scene. His heart raced a bit faster, sweat ran down his entire body, sticking his clothing to his flesh when Snow White, the seven foot anti-dwarf stepped out of his Lexus like a goddamn cowboy, gun raised, and steel in his cold, blue eyes.

“Don’t make me shoot you, Royal!” he roared.