Adored by a Brooklyn Drug Lord 3 Page 2

  “You better not answer that call,” Urban warned me without taking his eyes off the blurry Brooklyn streets.

  I powered my phone off, placing it back into my pocket. “I didn’t plan to.”

  “I know you got obligations and shit back at home, but I need all hands on deck. Whoever did this will be playing me close, and I need to be ready to hit when the time comes. You don’t have a weak stomach, do you?”

  At the thought of Kelsey somewhere reliving her worst nightmare, I replied, “Hell no.”

  “Good, because we’re about get into some dark shit,” Urban said as we hit the Manhattan Bridge.

  Urban’s words weren’t a surprise to me; if he could kill to take over New York City, I knew there was no limit to what he would do to get Kelsey back. There was also the matter of Briana waking up. Briana was being wheeled to the nearest trauma hospital as he arrived at their apartment. The police met him at the hospital, the FBI trailing right behind them, asking who would want to kidnap Kelsey. Urban was in banking; people knew he had money, and in his weakened state, would be willing to try him for a piece of his fortune. With the FBI watching, it was hard for him to make too many moves, which was why I was shocked at him making me point in this operation.

  “Koi is still healing at home, Nicole is en route, Normani and Trish are on their way to the hospital, which leaves just me and you—”

  “And my boy Eric if you need another hand,” I added, knowing Eric would be appreciative of the opportunity to impress Urban. “Tell me what you need and I’m ready to ride.”

  The car made a sharp turn, pulling into a waterfront warehouse. Urban sat up straighter, his brows furrowed as we approached a guarded gate. The security guard posted up in front of it approached the car, asking for identification. Urban rolled his window down, flashing credentials he pulled out the jacket of his double-breasted suit. We were waved through, the gates rolling open with the help of another guard. It was my turn to sit up a little; I had no idea where we were or what was hiding in this building. It could be an arsenal of weapons, more bricks of cocaine than I could imagine, or—

  “Cars?” I asked, stepping out the car to get a better look at the fleet of cars lined up throughout the warehouse.

  The lineup consisted of a sedan, SUV, convertible, and a whip that would put Lamborghini to shame. It had suicide doors, a sleek body, and from what I could see from here, a calfskin leather interior. What made these cars different than any of the other luxury cars I’d seen around was that their insignia was different. An ornate M was on the front of each vehicle, coated in the same silver as a Benz. Urban took up a spot beside the last car, shrugging his shoulders.

  “You designed these?” I asked, my jaw dropping.

  Urban gave a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “It’s been a labor of love for the last two years. From the conception to the materials, I’ve worked on these cars myself. The banking industry is lucrative, but I’ve seen what Tesla has done for the auto industry and I thought to myself: why not?” He wiped a touch of imaginary dirt off the roof of the car. “I’m tryna set up the future generations to come.”

  I would never tell him, but Urban Mackenzie was an idol of mine. He grew up in the same hood as me, walked the same streets, hung out in the same hallways, and ended up a self-made billionaire. The way he handled money was unimaginable for us young niggas growing up in the hood. Urban moved out but still gave back, and he respected everyone on the block, which made it easy to reciprocate. If not for me breaking his daughter’s heart, he would like me more. On some level, my only reason for taking the verbal and physical punches from him wasn’t because I wanted to get back with Kelsey—I knew if I could learn from one of the best to ever do it, I would come out on top in the end.

  “Who do you think took Kelsey?”

  Urban glanced at me over his shoulder. “I won’t be able to answer that question until I know their motive. Are they targeting me or her? What’s the endgame? It has to be a good one because stepping on my toes in the name of a come up is dangerous.” He unlocked an office overlooking the entire warehouse, disappearing inside.

  “A power play.”

  Urban took a seat behind his desk, a wooden masterpiece perfect for sketching on. He propped his head up on his hand, motioning for me to take a seat. “Continue.”

  “Whoever took Kelsey is banking on you not retaliating. Whatever move they’re trying to make will come with a lot of power.”

  “I knew this would happen,” Urban said, more to himself than to me. He picked up a glass orb sitting on the desk and threw it against the wall, sending shards of glass peppering the far side of the room. “In my heart I knew what the case was, I just wasn’t ready to say it out loud.”

  I sat up in my seat. “You know who took her?”

  Urban shook his head. “I don’t know exactly who, but we’ll narrow it down within the next few hours. I got a list of names and addresses I’m going to give you. You don’t have to intimidate anyone, make yourself known, or even leave your car. All I need you to do is drive by. There will be a blue light on. You text the number corresponding to their name, and the light will turn off. ”

  “How will I really know it’s them? They could have somebody up there flicking the switch for them.”

  “I have my ways of knowing.” He pulled a sheaf of paper from his suit jacket, sliding it over to me. “When you’re finished, burn that list. It’s a lot of important names on it, none of which are connected publicly.”

  “I’m on it.”

  Shoving the list in my pocket, I felt my heartbeat quicken. In my pocket was a list of the most formidable drug dealers in New York City. None of them were dope boys, and just looking at the addresses, they lived amongst the wealthy, mixing their dirty money in legit industries. With all due respect to my idol, I would never let these names get out, but I wasn’t destroying the key to my next come up.

  __________

  The news of Kelsey’s abduction was on every television and radio station. Uninterrupted blocks of hip hop were broken in the name of giving updates. Eric pulled up the video footage of Urban speaking up to Kelsey’s kidnappers, pleading for them to return her safely. It was a ploy; one that Urban had predicted he would have to take part in to keep his hands clean. I was the extra set he had, making moves the FBI wouldn’t be able to track, and it was taking a toll on me as I approached the fifth house. As Urban had predicted, blue lights were on in one particular room, flicking off at the reception of my text. I even went as far as having them flick them on and off quickly, which was impossible for an app to do. Eric sat beside me, Glock on his lap, ready for someone to make the wrong move. It wasn’t until we arrived at a house in Park Slope did shit get strange.

  “Why isn’t her light on?” I asked myself, reading the paper and double checking the address. “Annette Buchanan…”

  Eric sat up higher in his seat. “Urban said if something strange comes up to hit him. Make the call.”

  I did as Eric suggested, hitting Urban on the burner phone he wanted me to contact him on. There was no answer. His house was probably filled with FBI agents waiting on a call from Kelsey’s kidnappers. If he didn’t call back in five minutes, I would make the decision myself; every minute we spent covering bases was another Kelsey was in danger.

  “You ready to go?” Eric asked as the time changed on the car’s dashboard.

  I checked my phone one last time. “Let’s do this.”

  Urban’s entire operation was the best kept secret in New York City, and I always wondered how he managed to keep his family safe being that anyone could take what he had at any given moment. As the house door opened, I realized it was because these people had just as much to lose. An older West Indian woman answered the door with a smile on her face, blissfully ignorant to who we were, and what we were doing on her doorstep. With a welcoming hand she allowed us to enter the foyer, a high ceiling masterpiece leading to an ornately furnished living room.

  “You�
�re here to pick up the clothes for the Salvation Army, correct?” she asked, disappearing into the living room. “My grandchildren are growing like weeds, and none of their old clothes fit. I told my daughter it was time to donate for the tax write-off…”

  Eric was quick to his waistband, drawing his weapon as the woman came up from the boxes with hers. “Listen, you old bitch. One pull of the trigger and you’ll be sleeping with the ancestors,” he said, motioning for her to put down her weapon. “Those grandkids here? ‘Cause I’ll lay out them little motherfuckers too.”

  A shot whizzed between us, nicking the tip of Eric’s ear. I was on it, firing a shot upstairs, clipping the edge of the corner. The woman kept her gun trained on Eric, but tears ran down her cheeks as she fought not to look and see who I was engaging with. A young girl poked her head around the corner, and I fired off a shot right above her head.

  “I’ve been doing this a long time, lady; I’m lining her up,” I said taking two steps to the left as Eric moved to the right, stepping out of range. “Where’s your daughter?”

  “I don’t know. She received a call this morning, and went running out the door. Then, she tells me to get this blue lightbulb from inside of her desk to turn it on. I dropped it on the floor by accident. She broke down crying like it was the end of the world,” the woman went on, her anger turning to resignation. “Annette’s instructions were to protect the children.”

  Eric shook his head. “She should’ve told you to run.”

  “She’s innocent,” I pieced together.

  He frowned up his face like I was crazy. “Nigga, what?”

  “If Annette was behind kidnapping Kelsey she wouldn’t leave her family here protected by her elderly mother. Her children are collateral; proof that while she wasn’t able to get home, she’s not responsible for Kelsey being kidnapped.”

  The woman nodded her head. “The look on my daughter’s face was one of fear. She wouldn’t hurt someone’s child. Annette knows better than that.”

  “Her boyfriend called her,” a voice said from upstairs.

  “Listen, if you can trust me, I’ll protect you, but we all need to put our weapons down,” I said, speaking more to the young girl at the top of the stairs who thought she was doing the right thing. “You kill us and there will never be any peace.”

  I lowered my gun as an act of good faith. There was a clunk of the dropping of a weapon on the top stairs. A girl no older than fourteen appeared, starting down the stairs. Her grandmother was next to lower her weapon, dropping the gin into the box of clothes beside her. Everyone turned to Eric, who still had his gun drawn.

  “What?” he asked with a shrug of his shoulders. “Just ‘cause y’all having a kumbaya moment don’t mean I'm with the shits.”

  “Eric,” I hissed.

  “Fine.” Eric lowered his gun, but he didn’t put it away.

  The girl stopped at the foot of the stairs, shooting a worried glance over her shoulder. I could see a little boy poking his head around the corner. “That’s my little brother. He’s the one who heard my mom on the phone with her boyfriend. They were arguing about something…”

  “Isn’t your mother married?”

  She nodded. “My dad says the only reason they’re still married is because he knows too much, whatever that means. My mom couldn’t care less; she does whatever she wants.”

  “Do you know the name of the man your mother was messing around with?”

  “Charisse,” the woman said, “speak up.”

  Charisse shook her head. “I don’t know his name, but they’re always discussing work. Maybe he works at the school with her.”

  “What do they say about work?”

  “That it’s time for a promotion.”

  “Your mother is the principal,” her grandmother cut in. “What kind of promotion would she be looking for?”

  Urban’s position. “One that doesn’t have anything to do with her current job. Eric, why don’t you take them to the car? I’mma hang back and take a look around.”

  “Come on, Little D,” Charisse called out.

  A little boy who shared the face of the man in the pictures lining the wall came clomping down the stairs, his head hung. Even his sister couldn’t help but notice the change in his attitude. She wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulder, whispering to him that everything would be okay in the end. I felt a pang in my chest, like I was missing a huge piece of the puzzle. Never would I have imagined that it would’ve called me the second the front door shut, leaving me inside of the large house alone. The phone started ringing off the hook. I picked up, listening for the person to speak first. It was silent on their end as well. We played this game for another minute before the person on the other end relented.

  “You tried to have me killed by your fucking boyfriend, you stupid bitch,” a man said, his breathing shallow. “What did you think would happen? You’d raise my kids with that punk ass pretty boy? I learned some shit working for your employers, Annette. When I get my hands on you I’m going to put you in the ground next.”

  “Yo, my man, this ain’t your wife, but I’m looking for her too,” I said, glancing over my shoulder. “Where you at?”

  The man on the other end let out a cackle. “You think I’m falling for that shit? How do you think I ended up like this? Annette told me to meet her for dinner, we eat, and she slips something in my drink. You wanna know where the fuck I woke up? In a fucking body bag!”

  “Wait, what? Slow down, give me your location and I’mma come through to—”

  “NO!” he screamed, and I knew he was shaken up. “I don’t want anyone coming anywhere near me. I might not be able to go to the cops, but I’ll be damned if I don’t want anything but to get my kids and get the fuck out of town.”

  “I can promise you protection from Annette’s other boss. All I need you to do is tell me where you are. I’ll have someone I trust grab you, and you can go wherever you want with your kids. But I need some information in return. Anything that will help me find your wife.”

  His breathing was ragged, as if he were ducking and hiding from someone. “She was fucking with this nigga who works at a—”

  Pop! Pop! Pop!

  Shots fired on his end of the phone, close range, the noise deafening. There was a scuffle, the sounds of him panting, the noise drowned out by his footsteps, loud against the pavement. I shouted for him to tell me his location. My requests were met by a hail of gunfire. The phone hit the ground with a clatter, skidding and cutting off. I slammed the telephone down in defeat. Placing my hands on either side of the credenza, I planned my next move. The one person who could tell me where Kelsey was, was either dead or close to. Another ringing phone snapped me out of my trance.

  “Quill, I need you to do me a favor,” Kelsey said, and I felt my heart break in half.

  I ran a hand through my hair as I began to pace the foyer.

  “Anything.”

  There was a pregnant pause. I listened to the background for anything that would give me a clue to her location. Silence. Kelsey sighed, continuing on with her request for me to pass along a message to Urban.

  “I want you to tell him that I love him more than anything in the world. I love you too.” The words were spoken with a vulnerability I hadn’t heard from Kelsey since we were kids, which was why the switch to another voice that didn’t belong to her scared me. “…I…want you to make sure that these motherfuckers don’t get shit. We don’t negotiate with terrorists.”

  The call cut off. Whatever sense of defeat I felt after speaking with Annette’s husband was extinguished. I had to find my girl at all costs, and if there was one person who could give me a straight answer, it would be the person who started this all.

  __________

  Koi Mackenzie sat on the hood of his car puffing on a cigarette. He inclined his head at my arrival, dapping me up. I guess in the name of bringing Kelsey home safely, the entire Mackenzie clan gave me a brief bout of clemency. That was cool with m
e; I could respect the OG’s for being able to overlook the past in the name of the future. Koi pulled out his phone, showing me a picture of a man in the hospital hooked up to machines.

  “My team found him in the garbage. They shot him up pretty bad. Most likely he won’t make it through the night, but we’re praying he pulls through. Those kids need at least one of their parents.”

  “One?”

  Koi raised his brow. “If anyone heard this plan and didn’t alert us, they’re dead. No excuses. Anyway…I think I have a good idea of who took Kelsey. One of our employees was killed by Malone five years ago. We gave his son a seat as a way to placate him, but it seems that might not have been good enough.”

  “How does he wash his money?”

  “The supper club his father left to him.” Koi read my expression. “Why?”

  “He said Annette drugged him and he woke up in a body bag. Niggas must’ve been planning to bury him somewhere…” I stopped at the look of fury forming on Koi’s face.

  He rose up off the car, heading for the driver’s seat without another word. I followed his lead, hopping into the passenger’s seat. We sped off into the night; Koi’s face turned to stone at my words. His fingers danced across his phone screen, calling a burner phone. The call went straight to voicemail. Not even a minute later, a different number called. Urban’s rumbling baritone filled the car, whispering as a mass of voices spoke behind him.

  “Talk to me.”

  “E is behind this entire thing, Urban. I told you giving that nigga his father’s seat wouldn’t placate him. He’s been waiting for a moment of weakness, anything to give him enough leverage to take over. Fucking the two female seats gives him that,” Koi said, making a sharp turn, slicing through oncoming traffic.