Deception's Playground (14 page)

“Slow down, baby. Look
… I just gotta lot goin’ on right now …” I tried to sound sincere. “When I
handle this business, we can sit down and figure this shit out.”

Then Sonya’s door swung
open. Her and Nicole were naked in the doorway.

“You comin’ in?” they
both asked.

Dumb-ass hoes.
I shoved them back in the house, shut the door with me on the opposite side.

“Okay, Spade. I’ll be
waiting,” Selena said.

“Another thing. No
offense, but we need to get a blood test.”

“That’s fine. I know
you have your doubts.”

With that phone call
wrapped up, I headed toward my car. I left Sonya and Nicole to deal with their
sexual desires by themselves. I was on my way to Casey’s.

***

Casey and Sparkle were in their pajamas,
full top and pants sets. We were all in the living room talking.

“So what club are they
going to?” Sparkle asked.

“American Pub on the
Westport,” I said.

“And they’ll be there
when?”

“They’ll probably be
there around ten. Trying to make an entrance.”

Casey smiled. “Well,
they’ll definitely be makin’ an exit.”

The next day, me and OG
Casa met at The Cheese Cake Factory.

“So, Spade, Kutz should
be taken care of in a couple of days.”

“Sounds like a party.
Am I invited?” I asked.

“Do you want to be?” he
asked.

“Hell yeah. That
muhfucka had people at my house.”

“Say no more, son.” He
paused. “So how’s Casey doin’?”

“She coo’,” I stated,
wondering where the fuck that came from.

“So are you two back
together?”

I broke off a piece of
one of my hand-battered onions and dipped it in the ranch, then ate it. “Why
you ask, OG? How’d you know we were back talkin’?”

“I asked because I care
about you two. I watched you both grow up.” He smiled. “And I know everything
that’s goin’ on.”

OG Casa was a muhfucka.
This slick-ass old nigga didn’t miss a beat. But I never cared if he was in my
business. I knew he had my best interest at heart.

“Yeah, I guess we
coo’,” I said. “We ain’t together or nothin’. I got too much goin’ on right
now.”

“That comes wit’ the
game,” he said. “But you gotta know how to keep your affairs away from home and
in their proper perspective.”

We chatted for another
twenty minutes, told him about Selena and he looked a little disappointed. He
told me to handle it like a man, and that was that.

***

“Where you at?” I asked
Sonya. I was driving on 70 East, leaving Kansas. I had to stop and talk to Ace.

“We’re about to be on
the Westport,” Sonya said.

“Where
you
at?”
Nicole said from the background. “While you askin’ all these questions.”

“Forty minutes away.” I
was happy that this night would be the last night these bitches breathed.

“Well, we’ll be in the
club waitin’ on you, baby,” said Sonya.

“A’ight, I’ll see yall
in a minute.”

I called Sparkle. She
answered on the second ring.

“Talk to me,” she said.
I heard music in the background.

“What’s good?”

“At the club. Lookin’ for
somethin’ hot,” she joked.

“I’m sure you’ll find
somethin’.”

“I hope so.”

“I’ll see you soon,” I
said.

“No, you won’t.” She
hung up.

I pulled up to the
Westport area. About thirty minutes later it was jammed packed. There were
cops—or
pigs
, as I liked to call them—everywhere, as usual. I parked on
Pennsylvania Avenue and walked to Kelly’s, a live music venue. I ordered a few
shots of Remy and flirted with a few women.

Damn near an hour had
passed and I didn’t hear an ambulance. I didn’t hear any rumors about two
females dropping dead in American Pub. Then my phone rang. It was Sparkle.

“Meet me at Conoco
now!” she exclaimed and hung up.

I hurried out of
Kelly’s and got in my rental. I was at Conoco in no time, spotted Sparkle in
her rental—a black Impala. I pulled up next to her.

“Them bitches didn’t
show up,” she said, as she got in my whip. Frustration covered her sex appeal.

“What? Man, let me see
what’s up.” I dialed Sonya’s number. No answer. I called Nicole.

She answered on the
fifth ring. “What’s up, baby?”

“Where the fuck yall
at?” I asked.

“Karma.”

“Yall got me all in
American Pub lookin’ for yall hot asses.”

“Sorry, sorry. Sonya
tried to call and tell you.”

“So when yall leavin’?”

Sparkle smacked her
lips, irritated.

“In a minute,” Nicole said.
“Sonya drunk as fuck. I’ma have to drive her car.”

So they in Sonya’s
whip,
I thought.

“A’ight, just call me
later.” I hung up and told Sparkle, “They’re at Karma.”

“Damn!” She paused.
“You lucky I brought a plan B.” She held up her Ruger, a 9mm. She held it like
it was her lover. I told her what kind of car they were in and she was out of
my car with the quickness.

It was going on two in
the morning when I checked my phone. I was driving slow down Pennsylvania,
music low, trying to spot Sonya’s car. I heard gunshots.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

The sound came from
where BP’s gas station was. I headed that way, cars heading in the opposite
direction. It was so much traffic. Too much! Police cars were closing in.

I took a right on 39
^th
,
and when I got to Broadway I took another right. I drove slow and BP came into
view, so did Sonya’s Monte Carlo. The front windshield had four bullet holes in
it. Two bodies were slumped in the front of the car. Police cars surrounded the
vehicle and an ambulance was on the way.

I went to the spot.

Sparkle went back to
Miami.

Me and Casey were laying in her bed
talking the next morning. Sparkle was probably forty thousand feet in the air
on her flight back. Sonya and Nicole were in a morgue.

“Spade, we should go to
Miami for a while,” Casey said.

“That’s cool,” I
replied, rubbing her back. “But I got some shit I gotta handle first.”

“Like what?” she asked,
and I sensed irritation.

I didn’t feel like
talking about it. “Some shit,” I said flatly.

“Whatever.” She got out
of bed. “What, you gotta check wit’ yo bitches first?”

“That’s funny. What I
look like checkin’ wit a bitch?”

“Spade, you ain’t gon’
miss shit.” She put her hands on her hips, looking good just waking up. “It’s a
lot of opportunities in Miami.”

“I’ma let you know, I
just—”

Lisa called my phone,
but I ignored it.

“You can answer it,”
Casey said.

“I know I can. I’ll
call her back,” I countered.

She left the bedroom. I
guess she had an attitude. She always was emotional when it came to me. I
jumped in the shower to freshen up. Then I heard the bathroom door open and
close. Casey slid the shower door open and joined me.

***

“How much do you need
on the investment?” I asked.

“Well, the property is
about sixty-thousand,” Lisa said. “Renovations will probably run about fifteen
thousand. So about thirty-seven-five initially.”

“So we’re goin’ down
the middle?”

“Yes. And even though
I’m going to be more hands-on than you, I’m willing to split the profits down
the middle.”

“Even though I’m not
going to be
that
hands-on, I still will play a part in tracking business
income, expenses, and tax issues. I have to know the inner workings of the
business.”

“Fine wit’ me.” She
smiled. “I suggest you get an account solely for business income. And look for
an accountant to get on your team.”

“I’m on top of it.
Anything else?” I asked.

“Yes. I’ll have my
attorney draw up the written agreements.”

“Coo’. But I have to hire
an attorney for my business affairs. I’ll have one by the end of the week.”

“Okay, Mr. Spade.” She
paused. “Trust me, this is a positive move. Get you off the block and
eventually in the boardroom.” She smiled again.

“I can dig it.”

Lisa gave me referrals
for reputable tax advisors, accountants, insurance agents, and attorneys. I had
$280,000 to my name. All dirty money. But that would change soon. I would
invest $37,000 in the beauty salon with Lisa, and I felt good about it. OG Casa
had been telling me to invest in real estate. But I still had one problem I had
to take care of. After that, I’d be ready for that legitimate paper.

***

I was pushing down Cleaver Blvd, headed
to grab something to eat. Casey had called me and told me she went and got my
truck from her uncle’s shop. I told her I’d be at her house shortly.

My music was up and I
was feeling kind of good. My last problem would soon be taken care of. Then I
could focus on my money. I felt my phone vibrating, indicating I had some
missed calls. I didn’t hear it because of my music. Checking it, I saw I had
two missed calls from OG Casa. I turned my music down and called him back.

“Nephew,” he said. “I
been callin’. You busy or somethin’?”

I frowned. Something
was up. “Nah, I’m good.”

“Meet me off 40
Highway. The lil’ village,” he said, referring to the trailer park homes.

“I’m on my way.”

***

I drove through the trailer park homes
until I spotted OG Casa’s car. Parked next his car was a black SUV. Both
vehicles were empty. I drove in and parked behind OG Casa and my phone rang.

“Come on in,” OG Casa
said and hung up.

When I walked through
the doorway of the trailer home, I saw Kutz tied to a chair, bloody as fuck.

“Spade … my man,” Kutz
said weakly.

I smiled, as I approached
him. “What’s good, Kutz?”

“You … betray me,” he
said.

His Armani suit didn’t
look too good. Neither did his face. I barely recognized him. Two Russians came
from the back room, sleeves rolled up, blood on their hands.

“They’re wit’ me,” OG
Casa said. He nodded to the Russians and they left. I pulled up a chair and sat
down in front of Kutz.

“You tried to kill me?”
I asked.

He spit blood in my
face.

I smacked him twice
with the back of my hand. Then I grabbed my life insurance policy and smacked him
with that.

He smiled—smiled like I
just told him a joke. Inside I knew he knew the joke was on him. I smacked him
again with my pistol.

OG Casa grabbed my
shoulder. “We don’t have much time,” he said. “Get this over with. My people
will burn this trailer down when we’re done.”

I turned back to Kutz.
“Why did you try to kill me, muthafucka?”

“You … broke … my
heart,” he said.

OG Casa gave me a 9
millimeter with a silencer on it. I put it to Kutz’s forehead. He smiled again.
And I shot him twice in the head, his dead weight slumping forward. He would
have fallen out the chair if he wasn’t tied to it.

“Let’s go, son,” said
OG Casa.

“Yeah, let’s shake.”

We walked out of the
trailer and the Russians got out of the black SUV. OG Casa nodded again. They
got some gasoline out of their backseat and decorated the trailer.

“I’ll meet you at yo
spot in twenty minutes,” OG Casa said.

I jumped in my Chrysler
and I was gone.

“Spade, it might be a good idea to head
outta town for a while,” OG Casa said, as he shared the evening with me at my
house.

“Yeah, I might.”

He gave me a frustrated
look. “It wouldn’t hurt, go take a lil’ vacation.”

“After I secure this
investment, I’ll shake for a while.”

“Investment?” he
questioned.

“Yeah. My lady friend, Lisa,
wants to open another beauty salon. Need a partner.”

“Yo lady friend, huh?”
He smiled.

“She’s coo’. She owns
the beauty salon on 39
^th
Street,” I said.