Adored by a Brooklyn Drug Lord 3 Page 8

  “I’m ready to move on from it,” I said, folding my hands in front of me. “What’s the next step?”

  Daddy took the helm of the conversation. Gone was his smile, replaced by a straight face. “We have a large shipment coming in a week. Without the other nine seats filled we’re at a disadvantage. Best practice is to shut down, let things cool off before we make any more moves. However, if we do that, we leave ourselves open to infiltration. There are people in this city literally waiting to find a chink in our armor.”

  “How do we vet people to fill the seats? Is there some kind of waiting list…?”

  “Due to the nature of our business we never speak of it with outsiders. As far as everyone is concerned, The Trust died with Malone. However, in the event that there are vacancies, we generate a short list of potential partners. We don’t consider it a wait list because they have no idea they’re on it,” Koi explained as he slid over a manila envelope to me. “Here’s a list of twenty prospects. Why don’t you take the week to go over them and pick your top ten. I know you like to share everything with your boyfriend, but no one can see this list other than you.”

  I held up the folder. “I keep business and my personal life separate. Everyone on this list…”

  “Is a native New Yorker with at least a decade under their belt. We don’t take transplants due to the fact that we have no idea what kind of beef they might be leaving behind. However…there is one particular person I would like for you to consider,” Daddy said, his eyes flickering between me and the folder. “He’s from the original set. The only reason he was removed was because he was doing time. I know it’s risky, but he’s really good at cleanups. His work is some of the best I’ve ever seen.”

  Daddy flipped to the last page. “Read up on him. Tell me what you think.”

  Dreaux Fontaine. Age thirty-five. Born and raised in Washington DC, Fontaine was brought up by a single mother due to his father dying in prison. He had a knack for anatomy—with the ability to disassemble a human body like one would take apart a car—and could disappear a body by the time he was fifteen years old. At the age of sixteen, he was arrested for possession, and did three years in juvie. Once he was released, Fontaine went back to the streets, continuing to hustle until he was arrested again. However, unlike the last time, Fontaine went to college upon his release, where he earned a degree in business. He would go on to open a chain of car washes throughout Maryland, all of which are still operating today. Fontaine was arrested on murder and distribution charges after his girlfriend Sentena Houston was found murdered after turning state’s witness. After a three-year battle, he was found not guilty on all charges.

  “Fontaine…Fontaine…” I muttered under my breath as I read the bio. “Where do I know that name from?”

  “Do you approve?” Daddy asked after another minute.

  I replied with a shrug. “I’m willing to meet with him.”

  “I thought you might say that which is why I have him waiting downstairs.”

  While waiting on Dreaux Fontaine, I sat back in my chair, trying to figure out why this story sounded so familiar. I had read it somewhere, maybe a newspaper or Shaderoom article I couldn’t figure out. A man’s rich laughter sounded from the other side of the door, and that’s when it hit me. The door slid open, welcoming the smell of his signature cologne. Bond no. 9. I saw his profile before I was hit with the full effect of his charismatic charm. Peace’s eyes widened a fraction as they laid on mine. He remained cool, approaching me with his confident gait, extending a bejeweled hand as if his lips never touched mine. I played it cool, giving his hand a firm shake and welcoming him to take a seat across from me.

  “Dreaux, this is my daughter Kelsey. Kelsey, this is Dreaux, one of the best cleaners we’ve ever had,” Daddy said, his eyes skating over the two of us.

  Peace inclined his head. “Dreaux was my father’s name. Please call me Peace.”

  “Okay, Peace,” I said in a tone higher than I intended. “You were recently released from prison. Do we have to worry about anything from your past interfering with any deals we might make?”

  “Of course not. I keep my hands clean at all times.”

  “Not clean enough to stay out of prison. Murdering your girlfriend? Sounds messy to me,” I snapped back, biting my pencil to keep from saying anything incriminating.

  Peace laughed. “That little folder must not have told you why they call me Peace.” He waited a beat, leaning in so close it could be considered foreplay. Koi sat up in his seat a hint. Daddy remained unmoved. “For two reasons, the first being that I like a quiet life. Simplicity has always been my goal, and anything threatening my peace must be eliminated. Drama is for little kids and stage productions. You don’t get to sit in rooms like this if you have a gaggle of baby mommas and crazy ex-girlfriends. I keep my shit under control. Not many people who have crossed me live to speak of such an atrocity.”

  “What is the second reason?”

  “Rest In Peace. Every body I drop becomes a part of me.”

  Fair enough. “How about we start you on a trial run? I’m thinking ninety days? We reconvene, and discuss where to go from there?”

  “That’s better than a ‘no.’ I got a lot of hungry niggas depending on me to eat back at home. You’ll have their loyalty just off that alone,” Peace said, his eyes resting on Daddy. “Good looking out, Urban.”

  “Don’t make me regret it,” Daddy warned.

  The meeting was adjourned shortly after. Peace reached into his suit jacket, extending his business card as if I didn’t have his number saved in my phone. Daddy accepted it for me with a warning look. On our way out he mouthed for me to call him. I didn’t have time to reply; Daddy was holding the door open for me to enter. Koi and Mr. H headed out with Peace, making sure to keep up appearances.

  “Why didn’t you want me to take his card?” I asked on the walk back to his office.

  “Between the two of us?” Daddy replied, glancing down at me. “Dreaux lives up to his name. He makes plenty of peace for himself, but everyone else? They’re forced to live in the hellish aftermath. The man is a cancer, he’ll suck the air out of a room, the life out of any woman naïve enough to lay with him, and steal work from any corner boy too trusting of a shiny timepiece.”

  My confident stride slowed to a stop. “Then why did you hire him?”

  “Because he’s good at what he does. You’ll soon learn there are monsters you will tolerate in the name of a job well done,” Daddy said, gauging my reaction. “It’s the nature of the business.”

  I swallowed my concerns, picking back up the pace, ignoring the twisting of my stomach. This was my least favorite lesson to learn. Wolves in sheep’s clothing were real, and I had a soft spot for the most dangerous one in the pack.

  7

  Peace

  Burna stroked his goatee, smiling as I recounted the meeting I had with The Trust. Truth be told, he didn’t want me dealing with Urban because of his knack for hanging shit over my head, but I told him this was our quickest way to getting money. I had more than enough saved to live comfortably—I made sure my money always made money—except comfortable wasn’t good enough. I wanted to make sure that my entire team was able to eat for generations to come, and those legit investments wouldn’t be able to do that for your average street nigga. Which was why Burna was convinced that asking nicely was just as time consuming, while I thought the exact opposite. Now he had no choice but to sit back and eat his words.

  “You mean to tell me that shorty from the bar was that Kelsey Mackenzie? Damn, a nigga feeling old as fuck right now,” Burna said over his drink of choice, scotch neat. “What’s the next move? The little girl is probably wide open for you, my nigga.”

  I cut my eyes at him over my drink. “Don’t call her a little girl; I don’t fuck with kids. She’s a grown ass woman with a bank account stacked higher than any of them ratchet ass hoes you fucking with back in DC.”

  “That still doesn’t change th
e fact that she’s still living at home with her daddy,” Burna mocked, showing me photos of Kelsey’s personal possessions being moved into Urban’s home. “The bitches I fuck with ain’t scared of being buried alive, and they damn sure ain’t running back home because of it.”

  “Ease up off her, aight? She’s only been in the game all of five minutes. Right now she’s being molded by Urban. Give him another year or two, and her name will ring bells in this city,” I shot back, selling her to myself more than my best friend.

  Burna agreed. “I remember being wet behind the ears at one point in time, but once I got the hang of the street life niggas had to literally pry my piece out of my hand; I was dropping too many bodies. Pigs were out there looking for a fucking serial killer.” He laughed at the two-decade-old memory. “You need to be on the right side of her come up.”

  “You think I don’t know that?” I said, sitting back in my chair, mulling over what my next move should be. “Urban is playing her close, even closer since I’m working with them. I’m sure her security is tight, and loyal to him before they are her.”

  “That, and she’s got a whole boyfriend.”

  Burna slid his phone across the restaurant table. On the front page of The Daily News, a local New York City newspaper, was Kelsey being held by some young nigga. The headline read “Her Hero.” According to the caption, Kelsey was rescued by FBI agents and her boyfriend, William Evans. That name sounded familiar. Burna had read my mind. A folder was slid into the previous place the phone rested.

  “He used to play for Duke…dropped out after he fucked up his knee…he’s got a kid with Drea Winthrop…ain’t shit in here worth using,” I said, closing the folder. I replayed his baby mother’s name in my head, opening the folder again. “Amos Winthrop’s daughter?”

  “Hell yeah, nigga. You think he knows his baby girl is being two-timed?”

  I stroked my beard, drafting a plan. “Nah, that’s too small minded. She’ll see right through it. Not only that, we don’t know what kind of agreement they have.” I slapped the table, earning a few looks from other diners of the upscale restaurant. “Amos is moving in on New York City. This is how he gets down. Comes in slow like a poison, takes a lay of the land, makes a few alliances, and goes in for the kill when he thinks his prey is at a disadvantage.”

  “Like The Trust with only two employees?”

  “Yeah,” I said with a laugh. “Except we won’t tell him. We don’t gain anything from that. What I require Amos for is something a bit more basic. I need him to get his son-in-law away from Kelsey. She doesn’t need a little boy fucking up her father’s empire; she needs a real man who gets shit done. With my lips to Kelsey’s ears, anything is possible.”

  “Even a seat for Amos?”

  “Exactly.” A commotion from the front door stole my attention. The hostess appeared to be flustered at the arrival of a large group. Or what appeared to be a large group. “Well I’ll be damned…”

  The commotion was ceased as Kelsey, flanked by several security guards, was led through the restaurant. Heads turned as she passed by, each one in varying degrees of recognition. She kept her head straight, refusing to meet anyone’s eye. I wouldn’t have known she was aware of my presence until the hostess approached me asking to follow her to an exclusive part of the restaurant. Burna stood to follow me and was shut down by the hostess, who bit her lip in fear of the big black man steadily spurting steam from his ears.

  “Relax, I got this,” I said, patting Burna on the shoulder hard enough to sit him back in his seat.

  “My apologies for the misunderstanding; Ms. Mackenzie was very specific with her request that you come alone,” she explained on the walk down a long imposing hall, stopping in front of a side door that could’ve easily been the janitor’s closet. “Here we are. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ring.”

  Ring? I stepped inside of the room and sure enough, a telephone sat next to the large circle table set for eight. Kelsey sat at the head, two guards sat on either side of her while the other four owned a pocket of the room. I didn’t think baby girl had it in her to be this gangsta, not with the way she was looking on the cover of those newspaper articles Burna showed me. I took a seat across from her, crossing my hands on the table, waiting for this unofficial meeting to commence.

  “Happy you got what you wanted?” she asked, playing with the diamond class ring on her right ring finger. “That’s why you came up to me that night at the bar, right?”

  I frowned up my face. “You think I masterminded all of this? That on the day I was released I had someone scout out where Urban’s daughter, who I had no idea was living in DC, was eating for the night so I could woo her?”

  “Then explain why you never mentioned being affiliated with my father,” she snapped, slamming her hand on the table hard enough to make the china clatter. “Do you know how embarrassed I am? My first recruit is some nigga I once considered…you know what? I’m not going to even speak on it.”

  Lil’ mama had no idea how sexy angry looked on her. “No, go there. Because last I checked, I was willing to make moves to be with you. You’re the one who ended things between the two of us.”

  “So you can sit across this table from me and honestly say that you had no idea who I was when you pursued me? You never once thought to look me up? Find out who my father was?”

  For the first time in my life I didn’t have to lie to a woman’s face. “Nah, I thought you was just some regular ass trust fund baby in school for a career in politics. My best guess was that your pops was maybe a senator or judge, but Urban Mackenzie? Never crossed my mind.”

  “Fine,” Kelsey replied, sitting back in her seat, letting my words marinate. “Not that I planned on us starting up again, you know it’ll be strictly business between the two of us, correct?”

  “With you being your father’s daughter, I wouldn’t expect anything less,” I replied, extending my hand across the table.

  Kelsey accepted it. Her hand, delicate and soft, was engulfed by mine. To my surprise, her grip was firm. How I didn’t figure out she was Urban’s daughter was beyond me because the more time I spent with her, the more obvious it became. Staring at our hands together, I knew we were the perfect match. While Urban could teach her the business side of the game, I could give her a real glimpse at it. What really went down while the drug lords slept in their homes. She was resisting right now, with her father having her under a microscope, but Kelsey would be mine soon enough. A monster I created. A queen to sit by my side while I became the biggest drug dealer in New York City.

  __________

  I swore on my dead grandmother that I would never set foot on federal prison property ever again. Nana was currently spinning in her grave as I strode up the walkway, hand in my right pocket, eyeing the place I rested my head for the longest three years of my life. Shit wasn’t tough on the inside; if anything, niggas treated me like a king as I procured contraband from the outside. However, at the end of the day, my lights still went off at the same time as everyone else’s. I kept them all on at home, refusing to admit the darkness brought about feelings of being trapped in a box. Kelsey wasn’t the only one with a fear of being buried alive.

  “Good morning,” an overfriendly female corrections officer greeted me, entranced by my appearance. “Please sign in. Are you here to see your mother, sister, cousin…?”

  I held up my left hand, giving her a good view of my platinum wedding band. “My wife.”

  Foolish of me to think she would calm down at the sight of my material promise of fidelity. She licked her lips, giving them a little bite as she checked the information against my ID. “Wow. Not many men are willing to hold their woman down while she’s in jail, much less prison. You must really love her.”

  “With all my heart,” I replied, not adding that love wasn’t the only thing keeping me loyal.

  Getting into the prison was just as invasive as I recalled. I was patted down more than necessary by frisky f
emale corrections officers, my personal possessions rifled through, and only after it was discovered that I wasn’t bringing any contraband through, was I escorted to the visiting area. It was packed with families; from children, to siblings, and the occasional spouse or two, everyone came out to see their loved ones on this seasonable Sunday morning. I wish I could recall one of these mornings, but no one came to visit me. Not my boys because of their records, nor my mother, who had labeled me a demon spawn, and the only other person who would be willing to make that drive was behind the same bars. I spotted her in the corner of the huge room, sitting at a table, hands folded, nervously glancing around. Our eyes met across the room, and she smiled. Damn, even after three years in the pen she still had that Colgate smile.

  “Peace,” she said, rising to her feet.

  I slowed to a stop, placing a foot between us. “Nita.”

  “Baby…” She placed her shaking hands over her mouth, swiveling herself from side to side at the sight of me standing before her a free man. “They let you out.”

  “I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you, baby,” I said, planting a kiss on her lips.

  We shared a brief hug, breaking apart as a guard shouted, “No touching.” Nita welcomed me to take a seat at her table. I sat with my back to the window, needing to keep an eye on my surroundings. She sat opposite in a spot where the sun bounced off of her beautiful brown skin. Her bone straight hair was styled in a high ponytail, showing off her swan’s neck, meeting her heart-shaped face. Back on the block Nita was the baddest, and even after three years in the pen, she could still step out and give this newer generation a run for their money. What sane man wouldn’t want a beautiful woman willing to be his ride or die?