Animal (36 page)

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Authors: K'wan Foye

BOOK: Animal
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“We haven’t come down here to scare you, Shai. We’ve come to warn you,” Detective Brown told him in his no-nonsense voice. “You’re a scumbag, but we’re still officers of the law, and as such, we have an obligation to warn you that we have reason to believe your life is in serious danger.”

Shai was unmoved. “And this is supposed to be the part when you tell me that you guys are the only ones who can save me, right?”

“You’ve got a knack for stating the obvious, my young friend,” Detective Brown said. “This thing is getting out of hand, and we need to put it to bed. We know somebody is gunning for you, and we’re ninety-nine percent sure of who it is, but we need confirmation from you. Give us a name so we can lock this bastard up, and you can go back to pretending you’re Poppa Clark.”

Shai said nothing for a long moment. He looked over at Angelo. “Did this muthafucka just ask me to rat?” When he turned back to the detectives his face was twisted into a mask of rage. “How fucking dare you disrespect me by asking me to help you put another man in prison! I’m a Clark, and if you don’t know what that means, then I suggest you ask somebody. Now get the fuck outta my establishment before I forget y’all are cops.” Shai turned his back on the detectives and leaned against the bar, where he motioned for the bartender to bring him a drink.

“Did you just threaten a police officer?” Detective Brown pushed his blazer back so that his gun was visible and accessible.

Shai downed the shot in front of him and turned slowly to face the detectives. “That ain’t no threat; it’s some cold hard truth.” He nodded behind the detectives.

The detectives looked around the restaurant. A bus boy who had been pretending to clean off a table near where they were talking was now focused on the detectives. He had both his hands hidden in a bucket that was used to clear dirty dishes, but it didn’t look like there were any plates in it. At that instant, the kitchen door swung open, and a female line cook stepped out. She had a towel over her arm, but it did little to hide the bulge beneath it. The manager Shai had been briefing was now standing by the front door. He flipped the sign from open to close and glared at the detectives. Detective Brown started to reach for his pistol, but Alvarez stopped him short. It would’ve been stupid for Shai to make such a brazen move against the detectives, but there was no telling what a man backed into a corner would do.

“Have it your way, Shai.” Detective Alvarez pulled his partner
toward the exit, keeping Shai and his employees in his line of sight. “But when the boogeyman comes knocking at your door, don’t dial nine-one-one, because we ain’t gonna answer.”

Just as the detectives were leaving, Swann was coming in. He accidentally bumped into Detective Brown in passing. “Fuck outta my way.” Detective Brown shoved Swann into the door on his way out.

“You did that shit in front of witnesses. I’m suing the department,” Swann taunted the detectives. He laughed and continued inside the restaurant, but when he took one look at the expressions of Shai’s and Angelo’s faces, his smile faded. “What happened? Is everything good?”

“Just these cocksuckers trying to get under my skin as usual.” Shai motioned for the bartender to bring him another drink. “You know they’re fishing for info about what happened at Sin City.”

“Speaking of which, I got the skinny on that from Holiday,” Swann told him.

“Let’s talk outside.” Shai led him from the restaurant and away from prying ears. “What the deal?”

“It’s just like I was trying to tell you; King James made his play,” Swann said.

Shai shook his head, mad at himself because everyone else saw it coming except him. “That piece of shit. I can’t believe he had the balls to try to get at us.”

“Well, believe it, because he did,” Swann told him. “Holiday says it was little Ashanti who King sent after him. You know he been hanging around King James and them like flies on shit. I guess sending him at Holiday was his initiation into their fold.”

“I’m gonna show them a fold when I fold their whole fucking
crew. King, Ashanti, . . . All of them niggaz is dead and make it quick.”

“That ain’t all, Shai,” Swann said hesitantly.

There was something about the look on Swann’s face that unnerved him. “What is it?”

“Holiday says that Ashanti wasn’t alone. He says that Animal was with him.”

Shai gave Swann a disbelieving look. “Is Holiday smoking that shit y’all are giving him to sell? Animal is dead.”

“Not according to Holiday. He saw his face and from the description he gave me, it was Animal. Ol’ boy even introduced himself to make sure Holiday knew just who he was.”

The revelation hit Shai like a physical blow. He had tried to tell Honey that she was being paranoid when she brought him up, but obviously, her woman’s intuition was more reliable than his sources on the police force. It would be the last time he ever doubted her. “First, this nobody muthafucka King James gets outta pocket, then he resurrects the dead to do his dirty work. Can this shit get any crazier?”

“It sure can. See, Holiday says that Animal spoke with him before he tried to take his head off, and his part in it has nothing to do with King James,” Swann informed him.

Shai was confused. “Then what the fuck would make him pop up after all these years and start laying people down?”

“A broad. Apparently the girl that idiot Holiday shot in the club awhile back was none other than Animal’s lady, Gucci. He wants the cat who shot her and the man who gave the order.” Swann gave Shai a look.

Suddenly, Shai felt weak. He leaned his back against the restaurant wall and rested his hands on his knees. “But I never told
Holiday to shoot that girl. I felt so bad about it that I sent her flowers in the hospital.”

“Try telling that to that crazy li’l muthafucka Animal. This shit has officially gotten out of hand, Shai.”

“The boogeyman has come a-knockin’,” Shai mumbled, thinking back on the detective’s words.

“What?”

Shai dismissed it. “Nothing. We gotta get a handle on this shit ASAP.”

“I’m all over it,” Swann assured him. “I’ve got every available snitch and gun-boy on the streets looking for signs of Animal. I also sent some extra muscle out to the house to make sure the family is safe.”

“Animal is a killer, but an honorable killer. He wouldn’t involve my family in this. He’ll keep it between us.”

“Try telling that to the trail of bodies he’s left all over the city. Better safe than sorry, and when dealing with someone as skilled as Animal, we can’t leave anything to chance. You want me to cancel the card game tonight?”

“No, we can’t do that. We’re playing host to some major players tonight, and there’s gonna be a lot of money floating around. Even some of Gee-Gee’s people are supposed to be showing up. My dad hosted these card games for years, and we’re gonna honor the tradition. If we don’t go through with it, it’ll look suspect. It’s bad enough that everybody and they mamas seem to wanna test us, so we don’t need to raise anymore doubt over our control of the streets.”

“Shai, fuck what people think. This is about your safety. You ain’t the prince no more; you’re the king, and protecting you is priority number one.”

“I respect what you’re saying, Swann, but we have to keep up appearances. A Clark has played host to these card games for the past twenty years, and we’re going to hold on to that tradition.”

“Then let me host it for you. As your underboss, I can speak for the Clark family, and no one will question it,” Swann suggested.

Shai wanted to argue the point, but he knew Swann was right. For as long as Animal was running around loose, he couldn’t truly breathe easy. “You’re a good soldier, Swann, and a better friend.”

“You know how we do; from the cradle to the grave, baby boy.” Swann gave him dap. “I’ll take care of the game, and Angelo can hold you down in my absence.”

“A’ight, get everything in order. I’ll have Angelo get some guys on the job with this situation with these street monkeys. We’re gonna dead Animal, then King James.”

Swann nodded. “King James should be easy enough to track down. Niggaz like him don’t know nothing outside the projects. Finding Animal is gonna be a little harder.”

“Which is why we’re gonna make him come to us.”

“And how do you plan to do that?”

“The most obvious way, of course. I’m gonna send some of our people to pay a visit to his girlfriend in the hospital. Let’s sprinkle a little blood in the water and see if we can catch a shark,” Shai smiled wickedly.

THIRTY-EIGHT

T
HERE WAS BLOOD EVERYWHERE
. T
HE ONCE-WHITE TILED
walls of the motel bathroom were now crimson and smeared. In the small bedroom area beyond, two men decorated the floor, marinating in pools of their own blood and intestines. The promise of riches convinced them that they were killers, but the hot touch of lead piercing soft flesh told them the truth. They were collateral damage, but the man held captive in the bathroom was the prize.

Money Mike was slumped in the corner with his arms suspended over his head, chained over the shower curtain rod and as naked as the day he was born. His face was badly bruised, and his eye had swollen shut on the first hit. Two of his teeth were broken, and the inside of his lip was cut so deeply that he knew he would need stitches. He was in a bad way, and the cause for it was standing mere feet away from him.

Animal paced back and forth in the small bathroom like a caged dog. His chest heaved up and down from the cigarettes
he’d taken to smoking, cutting off his wind. The white tank top he’d stripped down to before he started in on Money Mike was now an off-shade of pink and soaked. From wrists to knuckles, both of his hands were wrapped in bicycle chains, which dripped blood onto the floor. Before using the chains on Money Mike, he’d pretreated them in bleach so that every time one of the chained blows opened a wound on his victim, it would burn like he’d been doused with acid. It was a brutal, yet affective, method of interrogation, and the subjects never lasted more than eight minutes. Money Mike was on minute seven.

Money Mike was a low-life hustler who had survived years in the game by always making himself appear to be too insignificant to be considered a threat, but a select few knew different. He dealt in something more dangerous than guns or drugs. He dealt in information. He hadn’t been on Animal’s shit list, or even on his radar, until he became a means to an end.

Against his better judgment and Ashanti’s protests, Animal had reached out to Money Mike. They’d done business in the past, and though Mike might not have been the most savory cat, Animal always remembered him to be honorable, but things were different now. Money Mike had grown in status, and Animal had a price on his head. Animal had dealt with Money Mike in the past, and the two had done good business, but when Animal arrived at the motel in Elizabeth, N.J., where Mike had set up the meeting, he realized how much time and greed had changed things. Instead of providing Animal with the information he was paying for, Money Mike decided he wanted to try to collect the bounty on Animal.

The goons were amateurs. They didn’t even wait for Animal to get into the motel room fully before they jumped the gun and tried to take him down. By the time the lead goon could finish the movie line he was reciting from
Carlito’s Way,
Animal had drawn his Pretty Bitches and gave him two to the chest. By the time the second goon had even gotten the idea in his head to pop off, Animal already had one of the rose-chrome Glocks placed snuggly under his chin. The second goon made eye contact with Animal. The last thing he saw was Animal turn his face away so blood wouldn’t splash in it when he blew the top of the goon’s skull off.

Money Mike tried to break for the door, but he was stopped by one of Animal’s Glocks being jammed roughly into the side of his jaw.

“I paid for some information, and I intend to have it,” Animal whispered in his ear. Ten minutes later, he had Money Mike bound and in a world of pain.

“So what’s up, Mike? You ready to tell me something good? Where will my chickens come home to roost?” Animal asked.

Money Mike fought against the pain as best he could to reply, “C’mon, man, they’ll kill me if I say anything.”

Animal struck Monkey Mike in the eye with one of his chain-wrapped fists, spraying the shower curtain with more blood. He grabbed Money Mike by the jowls and watched his eyes began to tear from the bleach fumes. “And what do you think
I’ll
do if you don’t say anything?”

“Animal, stall me out,” Money Mike pleaded. “I got some money stashed not too far from here, about ten stacks. If you let me go, I swear on everything you can have it.”

Animal punched Money Mike in the face again. “Don’t play with me, Blood. You know I don’t play for money; I play for souls. Quit stalling and tell me what I need to know. Where is it going down?”

“I can’t do it, man! I just can’t,” Money Mike rasped. He knew by not talking there was a chance that Animal would kill him, but it would be a clean death. If he talked and Shai Clark found out, he would kill him too, but he would make it slow and painful.

“You must think I’m playing with you, Mikey.” Animal slowly undid the chains from his fists. He picked up a paring knife from the bathroom sink. Leaning in, he whispered softly to Money Mike. “Let me see if I can convince you of how serious I am.” Animal started at Money Mike’s collarbone and traced a blood trail across his chest and stopped at his stomach, where he pushed the knife into the soft skin of Money Mike’s gut.

“Please just kill me and get it over with,” Money Mike begged.

“I got no intentions on killing you. We’re just gonna have a bit of fun.” Animal cut him across the chest again. Once he had made a bloody mess of his chest and abdomen he went to work on his arms and legs, jabbing small holes in them with the paring knife. When he moved the knife to Money Mike’s eye, preparing to pluck it out, his victim decided he’d had enough.

“Wait,” he begged just above a whisper. His throat was raw from screaming, and he felt like he would black out.

“What’s that?” Animal cupped his hand to his ear. “You got something you want to tell me?” Money Mike mumbled an
address into Animal’s ear that brought a broad smile to his face. “See? Was that so hard? You did good, Mikey, and you should be rewarded,” Animal drew the knife back.

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