Candy Licker (25 page)

“Damn,” Dom laughed. “I just thought of something. Let that girl get pregnant. Quadir and Caramel would make a pretty-ass baby, that's for real.”

Vonnie broke. “Who said anything about Quadir? The way that skank bitch is getting run through she probably wouldn't know whose baby it was. Don't be wishing that baby daddy shit on my Quadir!”

Dom bust out laughing again. “Oh, so that's why your ass is so damn salty. You got a problem seeing Quadir with Caramel? Shit, there's more than one overrated entertainment baller in the house. Go scrounge you up another one, Vonzelle.”

“Tell that bitch to go find her another one! Qua was eating my pussy before she even got here!”

“Well,” I laughed too as I looked down into the pit. “He must wanna eat at another restaurant 'cause he's halfway up Caramel's ass right now.”

“Don't get smart, Candy,” Vonnie warned me. “Taking that bitch's side. Caramel don't know the shit I know, remember? Matter fact, how's Knowledge doing today?”

Dom and Fatima both had their eyeballs down my throat.

“First of all, Vonnie,” I said, getting kinda quiet, “you ain't gone call my sister too many more bitches right in my face. And second”—now my finger was pointing because guilt can make you act like that—“Knowledge who? Oh, that would be the investment baller who wouldn't eat a piece of your rotten punanee, right? If you wanna know something about him you need to ask him. What do I know about how he's doing? I'm the laced-up bitch that you dying to be. I sleep with Hurricane Jackson every night. Remember?”

K
nowledge jogged down the narrow flight of stairs leading from his office. It was early afternoon and the House of Homicide was quiet. He walked down the hall and past the steel door where Hurricane kept his small stash of recreational drugs. Business had been good, and Hurricane's territory had expanded rapidly over the last couple of years, forcing him to move his main drug distribution center further downtown into a large warehouse that employed over fifty people.

Knowledge passed the empty gambling room and the VIP Lounge, then walked down the bridgelike archway that stretched over the pit, then headed downstairs to Studio C. He had just reviewed a stack of contracts and needed Hurricane's signature for their execution. He hadn't gotten this far in life without a thorough understanding of the game, and Knowledge knew his boss ran a dirty shop when it came to his contracts.

Every one of Hurricane's artists was getting dicked in the ass when it came to their royalty points. Urban albums were the
modern-day cotton—a cash crop that fattened the pockets of sharks like Hurricane and those moneygrubbing white boys up at Interscope, but left the field hands straight broke. As an attorney Knowledge felt it was his responsibility to make sure Hurricane's artists had every opportunity to seek outside consultation before they signed with him. He'd even gone as far as to insert a clause where they had to acknowledge either accepting or declining that opportunity and so far not one of them had bitten the bait. Time after time he had stood by shaking his head as their eager asses waived their right to seek an independent attorney and concurred with the contract terms just as they were. He didn't understand it. It was like going to your foot doctor and agreeing to get open-heart surgery without consulting a heart surgeon.

Downstairs, he passed by Studios A and B where most of Homicide Hitz’ recording was done. He rounded the corner to Studio C and stopped in his tracks outside the open door.

Hurricane was in his office, but he wasn't alone.

Butt-ass naked and straddling an office chair backward was Asia. Her eyes were closed and her face was squinched up in pain. Behind her was Hurricane, on his knees and gripping her by the waist as he fucked her from the back with a bottle of Cris-tal, sweating bullets as he pushed it deep up inside her fifteen-year-old pussy.

Knowledge grabbed hold of his rage and forced it down. He took a few hard breaths until he got it to a place where he could manage it, then he nigger-knocked on the open door like he wanted to tear that fucker off the hinges.

“Whattup?” He held out his hands, gesturing with the stack
of contracts. “I thought we were gonna take care of
business
today?”

Asia almost jumped through the ceiling as Hurricane slid the wet bottle out of her pussy and set it down next to him on the floor.

“Whattup?” Hurricane said, breathing hard as he climbed to his feet.

Poor Asia didn't know what to do. She couldn't even look at Knowledge as she backed away from the chair and scrambled over to Hurricane's desk to get her clothes. She didn't have enough hands to cover everything that was exposed, so she pressed her arm over her breasts and reached back and spread her fingers over her plump ass.

Knowledge turned away to give her a little respect as she tried to get dressed.

Hurricane didn't seem pressed at all as he sat down at his desk. “Put the rest of your shit on outside,” he told the young girl when she took too long jumping into her clothes. With his head still turned, Knowledge heard Hurricane smack her on the ass before sending the half-naked teenager scurrying out of his office.

“Aaight,” Hurricane said real business-like, holding out his hand for the contracts. “What you got for me?”

It took everything Knowledge had in him not to slam his boss to the ground and stick that bottle of Cristal down his throat. Hurricane was buff and strong, but big niggahs fell the hardest, and Knowledge knew how to take a niggah down with one strike. Right then he made a decision. Shit had to to handled. There was no other way.

“Contracts,” he said, swallowing what was in him. It didn't make sense to confront a niggah like Hurricane and argue over what he felt naturally entitled to. If it wasn't Asia it would have been some other hot young girl with a big ass and an empty head. They waited outside the House on a daily basis, and any one of them would have been happy to sit down on Hurricane's Cristal.

“We need to get these executed real quick,” Knowledge said, his voice completely normal. “I'll get 'em notarized this afternoon and call the artists in to pick up their copies early next week.”

Knowledge felt Hurricane searching. His boss was looking for a flicker of what Knowledge felt on the inside, but Knowledge was a born poker player. Nothing showed on his face, absolutely nothing. He'd perfected that technique in the courtroom.

After the contracts were signed Knowledge helped himself to a cold beer from Hurricane's small refrigerator. He kicked back in his usual chair and listened to a few samples his boss was thinking about using. He laughed and talked shit and did all the things he normally did when he was chilling in Studio C with his boss. But in the back of his mind Knowledge was already out. His brain was on whir, working numbers and calculating the net worth of all their underground accounts. Millions. At his fingertips. He laughed at something Hurricane said, but turned back to the fridge when he saw his boss reach for some dap.
Nah, no dap
, he told himself, passing Hurricane a cold beer instead. His whole body felt charged. Energized and ready to do battle. Yeah, shit was fittin to get tallied. It was time
to start shaking trees and moving money, because the scent of Asia's pussy was still in the air and Brother Hurricane was just too dirty to touch.

“
I
need a favor,” Hurricane said a few weeks later. “It's a big one, but I think you can handle it.”

Knowledge leaned back in his chair with the phone in his hand and gazed out the window. Hurricane calling him up for a favor wasn't unusual. He'd given a lot of his artists and a few of his boys the hookup over the years. Some he'd helped out of tax jams. Others he'd created dummy corporations for in order to account for their illegal income.

“Whassup?” he asked. Knowledge was always cautious. He was a deep thinker and he never committed to anything until he knew exactly what he was facing.

“One of the big bosses out in L.A. is in a little trouble. Tax evasion. Racketeering. You know. All that legal shit hotshots like you know how to handle so well.”

Knowledge sat up in his chair. “Who is it?”

Hurricane paused. “Paddy,” he said, then spoke again when he heard Knowledge whistle in amazement. “Yeah, it's just that major.”

Knowledge whistled again. This shit
was
major. Paddy Gab-riano had gotten stung? That meant the feds were getting pretty slick. They'd roped in the big daddy.

“When?” he asked.

Hurricane paused again. “In three days. I know it's short notice, but Paddy got mad and fired his lead man. His number two guy just got hit with a bunch of his own charges, and my
boy Nicky called looking for some powerful ammo. He knows you're the best, so I told him I'd send you.”

Knowledge's brain went on whir. In seconds he'd completed a risk assessment and calculated his odds. “Cool,” he said, standing up and holding the cordless phone against his shoulder. He brushed off his Versace suit and walked over to his picture window and picked up the small water bottle on the sill. “Anything else?’ he asked, raising the window just high enough to mist the flowers that were already completely out of bloom.

“Yeah,” Hurricane said. “This is big, ak. Real big. You pull this shit off and your pockets gonna explode. The family is picking up the tab and they know it's gonna be a heavy one. But I ain't gotta tell you that the rules work both ways. You fuck it up and the charge'll be on you.”

Knowledge grinned. No matter what, the black man was always underestimated. Especially by other black men. He was used to it though, and unlike some, he welcomed it. Knowledge knew what the fuck he knew, and he would master this trial like a champion chess match. Fuck that pot of money waiting at the end, though. He had plenty of money. He had other payment plans for the Gabrianos, and if things worked out the way he lined them up, this was one case he'd be defending pro bono.

T
hree days wasn't a lot of time, so Knowledge moved fast.

He figured on being out West for at least three weeks, maybe even a month, and a lot could happen in that time. As he went about preparing for his trip he realized that this was the first time he'd made such a major move with a woman in mind. No
longer was he alone and existing independently of everyone else. He had somebody else to consider now, and of course Candy's safety would come into play when he made his moves.

The day before he left Knowledge checked to make sure everything was in order in his files and that all sensitive items and documents were locked away in his safe. He went to the bank and made a withdrawal, then ran the other errands on his list, checking them off in his mind as he completed them.

One of the last things he did for the day was get Jadeah on the phone.

“Hey,” he said when she answered. “I need a favor, and if you don't wanna do it, you don't have to.”

Jadeah was down even before she knew what he was asking for. “Knowledge, you know I love you like a baby brother. Just tell me what you need.”

“I got a package I might need you to deliver for me. You don't have to do nothing, but if anybody ever asks for it, give it to them.”

Jadeah sounded unsure. “Who's it for?”

“I can't say.”

“Well then how am I supposed to know if I'm giving your shit to the right person?”

Knowledge thought for a moment. “Give it to the person who asks for it. If the right person ever needs it, you'll know.”

K
nowledge was ready for me when I got to his loft on Monday night. Hurricane had gone to watch a football game at his friend's bar up in the Bronx, and Knowledge had slid me some cab fare to get downtown and promised to make sure I was back at the House before Hurricane and his crew got back.

He had a hot bath waiting for me when I walked through the door, and I followed him into the bathroom and held still while he undressed me under the flicker of about ten lit candles. I knew he was leaving for L.A. the next morning and I didn't feel good about that shit at all.