The Family Business 3 (6 page)

You know, I never used to understand people who talked about committing suicide. I just couldn't wrap my head around the idea that anything could be so bad you'd want to take your own life. Well, that had changed, because in the past few days I'd come to the conclusion that without Junior, life just wasn't worth living anymore. There is something so brutal about having that kind of love and losing it; it's almost better to never have had it at all. What made it even worse was that I knew he still loved me as much as I loved him. If he'd abandoned me or left me for another woman, I could have wallowed in my anger. Instead, I had left him. Not that I'd been given a choice, with Xavier threatening to kill him and his entire family. So, I'd been seriously considering taking my life to get this intense pain over with.

I didn't want to go out bloody or suffer in any way, so this morning I'd laid out a bottle of sleeping pills next to my favorite bottle of wine. I figured it wouldn't be that hard; all I had to do was take a couple of handfuls of pills, chase them down with wine, and then go to sleep and never wake up again. In all honesty, the only thing holding me back was the fact that my death wouldn't guarantee the safety of Junior or his family. Xavier hated losing anything that he considered his property, and it would be just like him to try to make Junior pay for my final choice. He'd never consider that he was the one to drive me to take my life by keeping me away from the man I loved. No, that would never enter his mind because that would mean he was at fault, and he had too much of a God complex to ever admit he was wrong about something.

I walked wearily over to the table and poured myself a drink as my phone started to ring. I stared at it, wanting to pick it up because I knew it was Junior. He'd been calling constantly ever since I left his house, but I hadn't answered any of his calls. I couldn't. Whenever I felt myself growing weak, I recalled the image of his mother's desperate face as she held that knife to my throat, and I let it ring. I did not want to have to face that woman again and explain to her that I couldn't stay away from her son, even though I had promised to never go near him again. I couldn't risk it, knowing what Xavier would do to that family. In the years since my husband had gone to prison, he'd become far more dangerous than he'd ever been before, and the types of people he dealt with would do anything for him, including wipe out an entire family if he asked.

I sipped my wine, making my way over to the living room window to peek out. The blue sedan was still parked across the street with someone sitting in the driver's seat. I didn't know if they were staking me out in shifts or what, but that car hadn't been moved since I came home from the Duncan estate three nights ago. They weren't even trying to hide their presence from me. No, like everything else, Xavier was trying to send me a message, letting me know I was a prisoner in my own home.

“I'm not going to let you win, Xavier,” I said out loud, finishing off my wine then heading to the bathroom to take a much-needed shower. In the three days since I'd returned from Junior's, I hadn't showered or slept, and I had barely eaten. I'd called my job and taken a leave of absence, because the last thing I could imagine was taking care of anyone else right now. As a nurse, I was accustomed to being the calm in the storm, but if I walked into that hospital in my current state, my boss would probably try to admit me into the psych ward.

The shower helped to revive me enough that when I emerged from the bathroom a while later wearing the tightest, most revealing dress I owned and plenty of makeup, I felt a new determination. Everything about my attire was chosen to be a gigantic “fuck you,” and for a second it actually made me laugh. On my way to the front door, I stopped and scooped up the bottle of pills from the table. I wasn't a hundred percent sure how this was going to go down, but if I had to die tonight, then so be it. I planned on making sure Xavier would witness it firsthand.

I stepped out into the night and sashayed across the street so that the driver of the blue sedan could see my every move. When I reached the sidewalk, I surprised him by approaching the car, opening the passenger side door, and sliding in next to him.

“Take me to your boss,” I demanded. The poor kid couldn't have been more than twenty-two, and he looked like he was about to shit his pants.

“Ma'am, I have to call and see if it's okay,” he mumbled.

“Then make the call. I don't have all day,” I said, sitting casually back in my seat.

A half hour later, I was being led down a long, echoing corridor with a dark sack over my head. My guide stopped to open a door, and my knees almost gave out when I heard Xavier's voice. I still wanted to confront him, but the reality of being around him with no prison guards in this unfamiliar place was starting to take its toll on me.

“Sit,” someone said, forcing me into a chair and then taking off my mask.

“Hello, my beautiful wife. Nice of you to come.” Xavier smiled at me, and I swear I saw the devil in his eyes. “What was so urgent you had to see me?”

“I've ended my relationship with Junior Duncan, so you can call off your dogs. I won't be seeing him again.”

“Is that so?” I could tell from his tone that he didn't believe me. I shouldn't have been surprised, because aside from Junior, Xavier knew me better than anyone. He knew how much I loved Junior, and I wasn't one to give up on the people I loved. Hell, look how long it had taken me to come to my senses about Xavier, as bad as he was.

I opened my purse, and I guess the quickness of my movement caught him off guard. He jumped, and the next thing I knew, his hand was clamped down on my purse, grabbing it out of my hands.

“What is wrong with you?” I screamed at him.

The door flew open, and two gun-wielding men dressed in black stood in the entryway.

“It's all right. Just domestics.” He waved them out.

“So you thought I was here to kill you?” I laughed. “Then that means your men didn't do their job of patting me down properly.”

“My men would never put their hands on my wife.” His voice was full of simmering rage. He smashed the contents in my purse between his fists, and I guess that was enough to satisfy him that I wasn't carrying a weapon in there. He handed it back to me.

“Don't worry, Xavier. I didn't come here to kill you.” I opened my purse and pulled out the bottle of pills. “In fact, I don't want to be here at all.”

“What is that?”

“Sleeping pills. I kept thinking that I could be done with you . . . by any means necessary,” I said, using a phrase I'd heard him use a million times.

“No! You will not kill yourself. It is not the way of Allah.” He reached over and snatched the pills out of my hand. “You will not get these back,” he said, as if that was the last word on the subject.

I shook my head. “You forgot what I do for a living. I have access to pills, as many as I need, but you know what?” He narrowed his eyes in anger, and I knew it meant he felt his control of me slipping away. “It doesn't have to be this way. You want me not to kill myself? Then leave Junior—and me—alone. I have left the man who I love, and that needs to be enough. Do you understand that?” Looking into the eyes of my unpredictable, psychotic husband, I could only hope that my threatened suicide would be enough to keep him away from Junior and his family.

“I want to know every move Junior Duncan makes,” I demanded of Elijah the second Sonya walked out the door. “I don't believe for one minute that he's going to give her up. Or that she's going to give him up, for that matter.”

“You may be right,” Elijah replied. “But from what we can tell, he hasn't left the house in days.”

“Well, keep an eye on him.”

Elijah frowned. “Actually, I had to move our people off the surveillance of the Duncan compound this morning.”

“Why?” I snapped.

“They hired a private security force. They've got cars and dogs patrolling the interior and exterior of the property, and Muhammad spotted them installing infrared and heat-monitoring cameras. These people are way more sophisticated than anyone we've ever dealt with.”

Every muscle in my body tensed up. “Stop making excuses, Elijah, and get the job done.”

“I'm not making excuses. I'm just informing you that we need more time. This is not some prison hit or some random guy off the street you have us stalking. These people are millionaires with all kinds of resources, and we've lost the element of surprise.”

“I don't care! I want Junior Duncan dead by the end of the week. It's the only way she's coming back to me.” My voice lost its power as I referenced Sonya, my one weak spot.

Samuel entered the room and whispered something to Elijah, who then turned to me with a look of displeasure. “The Jew is here.”

“What does he want?”

Elijah shrugged. “I don't know, but it must be important. As you can see, he tracked you down, and he's not taking no for answer.”

“Okay, Brother Samuel, send him in.” I gestured to Elijah to take a seat. “This should be interesting.”

A few moments later, eighty-year-old Bernie Goldman and two rather tough-looking Jewish men in yarmulkes entered the room. Bernie was a frail, dark-suited Hassidic Jew adorned with the standard hat, long beard, and curled sideburns.

“Xavier, it's good to see you among free men,” he said, his Yiddish accent as strong as ever. He took the seat directly across from me, and his two bodyguards positioned themselves behind him like pillars.

“You've come a long way, Bernie. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You know we do not like to get into your personal business; however, it has come to our attention that you're planning on killing a man by the name of Junior Duncan.”

Bernie claimed not to like getting into my personal business, but he damn sure made it his business to know what any one of his associates was up to at all times. Hell, he hadn't become as powerful as he was for no reason. Knowledge was power. For that reason, I wasn't tripping over the fact that he knew what was up.

“You can already consider him dead,” I said nonchalantly.

Bernie erupted in a coughing fit, and one of the bodyguards patted him on the back. It took the old man a minute to stop coughing and catch his breath before he spoke again. “I think that would be unwise.”

“Who are you to tell us what to do? We don't take orders from no Jews.” Elijah flexed his muscles, challenging Bernie's bodyguards to make a move. He hated white people more than anybody I'd ever met, but more than anything, he hated Jews.

Bernie sat back in his chair calmly, dusting off his hat before addressing Elijah like he was a child. “If you don't know who I am and who I represent by now, young man, then perhaps it's time you replace Xavier in prison and find out. I can have that arranged for you by week's end if you'd like.” Elijah's face went blank and Bernie, satisfied, turned to speak to me.

“I know this situation with your wife is important to you, but our mutual friend is concerned about what a war with LC Duncan will do to what we have built.”

His comment had me confused, and Elijah said what I was thinking. “LC Duncan is a car salesman. He's no threat to us.”

Without glancing at Elijah, Bernie leaned forward and said to me, “LC Duncan wants you to think he's a car salesman, but if you kill his son, you will see that he is much, much more.”

“What are you saying?” I asked, pissed off and a little embarrassed that I had badly misjudged this situation. “Are you trying to tell me the Duncans are connected?”

Bernie shot a dismissive glance in Elijah's direction. “I'm saying that for a very smart man, you allowed your right hand to make two crucial mistakes. Number one, he should have spoken to us first. We would have told him—and you—who the Duncans are. Two, if you were going to kill Junior Duncan, you should have just done it and not let him or his family know you were coming. Your arrogance in this matter has exposed you and us immensely. Now they've had time to prepare.”

“So if they aren't just a bunch of nigga-rich car dealers, then who are they?”

He paused, looking up toward the ceiling as if he would find the right words to describe them up there. “How about the most respected drug distributors on the East Coast? They have ties to the Italians, Russians, Mexicans, Dominicans, and Asians, as well as with me and my people. And you should know that they've reached out to all of their allies about their recent problem with you and your organization.”

I glanced over at Elijah, who was avoiding eye contact at the moment. Bernie was right; he should have known who the Duncans were. I would deal with that mistake later. For now, I had to learn all I could about what I was up against.

“And what has been the response from his allies?”

“Nobody wants a war. It's not good for business. Most of them have decided to stay on the sidelines for now, but if they had to choose sides, I don't think you would fare well. You provide a necessary service, but the Duncans are a cash cow that makes us all a great deal of money. Although . . . I'm sure many of them wouldn't mind seeing the Blacks kill each other off so they can pick up the scraps, if you know what I mean.”

I knew exactly what he meant, but it didn't change the fact that I was going to kill Junior Duncan. “And you? What do you and your people want?”

“That is an interesting question. To be quite frank, we want what you want, but we want you to do it smart.”

“I'm listening.”

“You want to kill Junior. Well, we're suggesting you make life easier for yourself—and us—by eliminating his father first.”

“You want us to kill LC Duncan?”

Bernie leaned back smugly in his chair. “Who are we to tell you anything, Xavier? You've always been your own man. Still, logic dictates that if you cut off the head, it's much easier to kill the rest of the snake.”

I shook my head. “Bernie, you are one cold piece of work. Here I am thinking you've come to stop me from killing Junior, and instead you tell me to kill his whole family.” We laughed together briefly, but I cut it short, announcing, “It's gonna cost you one million dollars.”

“Huh. A million dollars for what?” He sat up, looking pained at the thought.

I explained my price, though he knew damn well what the million was for. “A million dollars to kill LC Duncan.”

“This is your problem, not ours.”

Elijah noticeably stiffened, and I can't say I blamed him. It was taking everything in me not to go off on this old Jew for insulting me this way. If Bernie was anyone less powerful I might have snapped his neck on the spot. Given his position of power, though, I kept my temper in check as best I could.

“I don't understand why you think I'm so stupid, Bernie,” I said through gritted teeth. “You didn't come here to give me advice. You came here because you want us to do your dirty work—and I'm telling you it's going to cost you one million dollars. I'll throw in the rest of LC's sons, especially that homewrecker Junior, for free. But I want a million dollars to take out LC.”

Bernie bit down on his lip. To be honest, I didn't think his cheap ass would go for it. He looked like he was in actual pain when he finally said, “Fine, we'll pay one million dollars, but I must have your assurances that nobody will know me or any of my people gave the order. And I mean nobody.”

“We don't talk about our clients or the jobs we do for them. You know that.”

“Just make sure you kill the one they call Vegas too. Otherwise we'll all have to sleep with one eye open. He's a very dangerous man.” Bernie got up from his chair with a little help from one of his bodyguards. “Let me know when the job is done.”

I nodded. “So before you leave, you wanna tell me why you want the old man dead?”

Bernie turned to me with an annoyed expression. “For a million dollars, I don't think I should have to tell you shit. Just get the job done, Xavier.”

I watched Bernie and his goons head out the door.

“What, Elijah?” I asked. I couldn't see his face, but I could feel his gaze.

“I don't trust him,” Elijah replied.

I turned to face him. “Neither do I, my friend. He's hiding something, I just don't know what it is yet.”

“You want me to look into it?”

“No. I'll deal with Bernie Goldman. You go speak to our people on the street. I want to know everything there is to know about LC Duncan and his family.” I grabbed his arm. “And this time, Elijah, I want to know
everything
there is to know about the Duncans—both legal and illegal.”