Bankroll Squad (14 page)

fifteen

“

I
put on for my city/ On, on for my city/ Ooooooooooonnn,”

The Young Jeezy song blasted through the huge club speakers. This song ignited the Squad’s swagger, and made them feel that it was okay to put on. So they put on ... in a major way. All eyes had already been on them when they first entered Club Supreme, but now, they were the absolute center of attention. All the lights in the club had dimmed except for the spotlight that shined on the Bankroll Squad as they stood on the toptier balcony, over the dance floor. Their wardrobes were immaculate. A couple of lower level ballers knew that all of their clothing had to have been custom made, because they had never seen any of the apparel in any of the upscale clothing stores. The jewelry that they were sporting was so bright that it looked blurry. Ears, necks, and wrists were sparkling so strong that everybody swore that their diamonds were moving; as if the jewels had miniature lives and business that they needed to get handled.

“
I Put Onnnnnnnn
,” the DJ played the chorus one last time and then let the instrumental play without the vocals.

The DJ screamed into the mic over the instrumental, then he stopped the instrumental.
“Wait, wait, wait! I don’t think ya’ll understood me when I said that these niggas were about to make in rain! Show some respect to the biggest ballers in the city and some of the biggest in the state! The Bankroll Squad!”
“
I Put Onnnnnnnnn
.”
As the song started back playing, Malcolm started emptying a duffle bag filled with one dollar bills out over the dance floor. Both women and men dropped to the floor, frantically scraping up as many of the dollar bills as they could. Malcolm smiled at the sight of literally throwing away $25,000 like it was a candy wrapper. The spotlight was so addictive to Malcolm, that as soon as he made it rain in memory of Marco (Marco used to say that he made $25,000 a minute, so what’s spending a minute on a watch) he bought out the bar in memory of Pam. All the females wished that they could catch one of the members of the Bankroll Squad and all of the guys wished that they could have it like they had it. When the valet pulled the Lamborghini up to the door, all the women went crazy trying to give Malcolm and Catfish their cell and home numbers, but the club’s security worked diligently to protect their biggest customers from the harassment.
Luther was soaking it all up. He knew that if he stayed down, his dedication wouldn’t become overlooked and Malcolm would possibly reward him by giving him Marco’s job. Luther rode with Prince Tron as they trailed Malcolm’s Lambo on the way to the Red Carpet. Catfish rode with Malcolm, but he was paranoid as hell sitting in the expensive car with him. He held on to an Uzi and looked all around him at the traffic lights and stop signs, thoroughly prepared to let any robber, jack-boy, or nemesis have it.

$ $ $ $ $

As Malcolm drove to the strip club, he couldn’t help but to think about what Pam had said to him earlier. It made sense ... they were all rich so why
were
they still hustling? It certainly wasn’t the money, he had plenty of that ... $170 million in cash, $12.5 million in stocks and bonds, and an extremely lucrative potato chip company that had just expanded its products from Plain and BBQ, to Salt and Vinegar and Sour Cream and Onion. The property alone that he owned was worth millions. Maybe it
was
time to quit. Kyla had told him a long time ago that the money meant nothing to her. She was happy just spending time with him, but Malcolm wanted to spend more then time. He was born in the ghetto and had never been afforded the opportunity to splurge, but that could no longer be used as an excuse. He had been given his opportunity 70 plus times over and he was still using his old excuse. When they arrived at the Red Carpet, they headed straight to the VIP section. Malcolm waved off the strippers and the waitress.

“Give us a couple of minutes please,” Malcolm told them with a forced smiled.
He wanted to have an emergency meeting. He had called Brink’s home and cell number, but it was going directly to the voice mail. That was highly unusual for someone of Brink’s importance to not answer his phones.
He’s probably at the hospital with Kyla,
Malcolm thought. The manager, seeing that it was Malcolm, personally brought a bucket of Cristal over to the table. He knew what Malcolm wanted, since he had been doing the same thing every month for the past year and a half.
“Thanks,” Malcolm said as his crew each grabbed a bottle of Cristal.
Luther smiled because this was an absolute dream for him. He felt like he had already been promoted.
“As you all know. We lost a good man today ... what made me initially put Marco in command was his heart. And I don’t mean
heart
as in love, but
heart
as in he would take your head off if you fucked with something you had no business fuckin’ with. He didn’t take shit from no one and he was smart as hell. I called this meeting to let ya’ll know that his death took a lot out of me. I wish he would have followed my directions and just stayed at the back door, but I guess if you give directions for a living, then it’s pretty hard to follow them.” He paused for a minute and let his last words sink in.
“I’m letting ya’ll know right now ... that I’ll be leaving-” Just as he was about to speak, two strippers came up to Malcolm firing questions left and right. “Where’s Kyla at?” One stripper asked. “Why won’t she answer the phone? We got the money we owe from last week.” The other stripper said.
Prince Tron had a bewildered look on his face and Luther didn’t know what the hell was going on. Prince Tron had never been introduced to any of the prostitutes because Malcolm knew that he would trick off compulsively which would start rumors amongst the gold diggers that the leaders of the Bankroll Squad were just a group of tricks. He didn’t want Prince Tron to set that type of precedent and have to dodge every gold digger in the city every time he exited his car. So he never introduced him. Until now...
“Tron, Luther, this is Sunshine and Rain ... they work for Kyla, therefore they are an extension of the Bankroll Squad, of course, Catfish ... you already know this.”
The girls smiled at the men seductively. Sunshine had golden skin and long black silky hair. She was 5’7 and weighed 125 pounds. Prince Tron guessed her measurements to be around 36-21-36. She had a tattoo on her breasts that was
almost
identical to the tattoo that Kyla had. The right breast had “Bankroll” on it and her left breast had a picture of a roll of money. Her tattoo was colored green and had a black outline. Rain was dark-skinned and short. She was 5’2 and weighed about 136 pounds.
She gotta’ have the fattest ass in the city,
Prince Tron thought. Luther wasn’t even thinking anymore, all he could manage to do was stare.
“Ya’ll go ahead and sit down,” Malcolm spoke while fanning away two more strippers that were on the verge of approaching them.
The other chicks walked off with an attitude.
“Hatin’ ass bitches,” Rain muttered to Sunshine, who nodded her head in agreement with her girlfriend.
“Kyla is in the hospital,” Malcolm said to Sunshine, whose face had immediately turned red.
Rain put her hand over her mouth and her forehead wrinkled up when she heard those horrible words. Kyla was like a sister to them.
“What happened?” Sunshine asked, concern evident in her voice.
Malcolm looked over at Catfish, who was shaking his head as if to answer Malcolm’s silent question of whether or not he should tell them.
“I don’t want to ruin you girls’ night by discussing the situation. It’s really not the time nor place for it, but I’ll tell you what ... call me tomorrow evening and we’ll meet up so that I can fill you in.”
The girls nodded their heads, but remained silent. Just the mere thought of Kyla being in the hospital had the girls feeling down and depressed. Suddenly, Sunshine spoke.
“Oh yeah ... um ... we was tricking with Rally and Diaz earlier today ... and we heard some stuff we thought you might need to know.”
“Rally? As in the Dynasty Cartel Rally ?” Malcolm asked.
“Yeah ... him.”
“Well? What did you hear?”
“Ummm ... what’s his name? Umm ... Rain what was old boy’s name?”
“Who? You talking about Dexter?”
“Yeah! That’s his name! They bought a lot of coke and put Dexter in charge of moving it. They said something about the Bankroll Squad was out of cocaine and they were going to reclaim the city within the next week.”
Luther couldn’t control his silence after hearing such a preposterous statement.
“Dexter?” Malcolm looked at Prince Tron for help.
“Oh yeah ... Dexter works for us Malcolm. He runs Trap Eight over by the Wilmert Projects.” Prince Tron said while stroking his goatee.
Malcolm was so hands off with his workers that he had no idea who Marco had hired.
“He doesn’t work for ya’ll anymore.” Rain spoke in her softest voice.
“He switched sides; along with everybody else in Trap Eight. They were also talking about taking over Trapquarters by choice or by force. If Trapquarters don’t get down with the Dynasty Cartel, they said they would just operate from directly across the street.”
Catfish smirked at the thought of Dexter betraying the squad.
“If it ain’t one problem it’s a motherfuckin nother,” Malcolm said aloud in an exhausted tone.
“It seems like every since the situation unfolded with Kyla, everything just went fuckin’ haywire. Ladies, I appreciate the loyalty and honesty that you two continue to display, and I want you two to know that your efforts are definitely appreciated. Don’t forget to call me tomorrow evening okay?”
The girls smiled and nodded their heads at Malcolm.
“Now excuse us ladies, we would have stayed longer and had a little fun, but there are a couple of things that we need to get handled.”
Malcolm went and paid the manager, then they left out of the Red Carpet.

sixteen

T

raffic at Trap Eight had been booming all day and had not broken its speed deep into the wee hours of the morning. The fiends were literally

lined up and were from all over the city awaiting the almighty high. Business was beautiful for the Dynasty Cartel, and Dexter couldn’t wait to tell Rally how much Trap Eight had made in one day. It was looking like the 80’s again. Until the van showed up. The van sat in front of Trap Eight and waited until the line died down a little. Then the passenger side window of the van rolled down, where Catfish was sitting. He pointed the machine gun at the house and held the trigger.
Tat-tattat- tat-tat-tattat- tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tattat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tattat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tattat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat.

He didn’t give a fuck who he hit and he didn’t give a shit what Malcolm’s orders were. He was doing the only damn thing that he was good at. He was handling shit
his
way. After they left the Red Carpet strip club a few hours earlier, Malcolm conducted a meeting which basically said for everybody to go to the house and rest and they would strike first thing in the morning. Everybody did as they were told simply because it was their leader that was giving the orders. They all wanted to exhibit a display of loyalty. Except for Catfish. Catfish felt like Malcolm was speaking from a standpoint affected by depression instead of setting his emotions aside and speaking like a commander. His wife Tricia had begged him to let her drive the van for him but he declined her offer. He managed to convince Prince Tron that Malcolm was confused and that he needed to drive the van for Catfish. After Catfish let out fifty shots, him and Prince Tron came back 10 minutes later and let off fifty more shots. He ended up knocking of six fiends and fourteen workers.

The morning news had declared it to be a drug war. Catfish heard about it on the radio. Malcolm was sleep.

$ $ $ $ $

Dexter was at the car wash when he got the call. He wasn’t mad when he heard the news, he was scared as hell. He had built a solid reputation when he was with the Bankroll Squad, but it was all small stuff. After receiving the call from one of the workers at Trap Eight that survived Catfish’s attack, he kicked the female crack head out of his Dodge Challenger while she was in the middle of her blowjob.

“Can I still get a dime?”

Dexter ignored her, slammed the passenger side door, and sped off. He wasn’t carrying a gun on him because he was a known drug dealer and a convicted felon who constantly got harassed and humiliated by the local law enforcement. They wanted to nab him
bad,
because they knew he was in deep. Dexter turned on the air conditioning and turned his sound system up almost to the maximum so that he could try to stay alert behind the steering wheel.

“
I don’t like it if it don’t bling bling, and to hell with the price nigga, money ain’t a thang.”
The song by Jay-Z and Jermaine Dupri was coming through the speakers.

When he reached a stoplight on his way to his stash spot, he took the opportunity to take that CD out because it didn’t reflect the mood that he was in. He put the CD aside, and in it’s place, he inserted a Tupac mix CD. The first song blared out of his sound system:
“It’s either my life or your life/ and I’ma bomb first.”
Dexter bobbed his head to the song while waiting at the red light. The whole time that he was sitting there fumbling with the CDs, he never noticed the black van on his left with the door wide open. Catfish jumped out of the van and ran towards Dexter with a pistol gripped Mossberg pump shotgun with a cooling system on the front aimed directly at Dexter’s head.
Boom!
The shot split his head open like a watermelon dropped onto the pavement. The only thing that Dexter saw was the front end of a hole before the shot turned his cream white interior to cranberry sauce. Catfish jumped back into the van and Prince Tron hit the gas.

$ $ $ $ $

Tracy had made herself at home and was granted the opportunity to stay overnight in Malcolm’s guest room. That morning, she went and woke Malcolm up at 10 a.m. She had on a Louis Vuitton bathrobe that belonged to Jennifer. Even sporting a bathrobe, Malcolm noticed that she was very easy on the eyes. It had been a while since he had actually had sex with a dark skinned woman, and it was definitely a wonderful experience. Tracy had a shape that made men’s mouths water. At 4’11 and 129 pounds, she was stacked! Full lips, full breasts, slim waist, long, black, curly hair, and a bubble butt made her a helluva catch. At one point, Sweetback was in love with her and took her everywhere he went, but when she started working as a bartender he started keeping his distance. He was too jealous of a man to let a woman belonging to him work in such a flirtatious environment. He argued against it for weeks, but she kept insisting that she continue because she was tired of sitting around in the house all day and night, doing nothing. Sweetback got mad, and kicked her out. She had been on her own for several years now, but always tried to maintain a cordial friendship with her child’s father.