Diamonds and Pearl (15 page)

With an amused smirk on his lips, the man with the diamond teeth strolled casually toward the tall man with the five-o'clock shadow, ignoring the bullets whizzing by him as if they were little more than passing flies buzzing around him. The wounded man's gun clicked empty just as the man in the ski mask closed the distance between them. Calmly, he placed his gun to the man's head and cocked the hammer back with his thumb. A look between sadness and disappointment settled in his eyes before he blew the other man's brains out.

 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Domo sat in the back of the minivan, wringing his hands nervously. For the millionth time since he'd gotten into the van, he wondered if he had made the right decision.

Him finding the electricity shut off in his apartment was the last straw. He knew he had made a promise to his mother to try to fly straight and focus on school, but he could no longer sit idle and watch her struggle. He was a man and men took action. With this in mind, he went and found LA to let him know that he was in. LA didn't appear at all surprised when Domo came looking for him. He knew Domo's family and their struggles and was just biding his time until the young man decided to come out of his shell and get into some real gangster shit, which is exactly what they were about to do.

Next to him on the backseat was LA's sidekick Rafik. He was a wild young dude who sometimes talked too much, but Rafik lived his life like an outlaw and was always down for whatever, so long as it put a few dollars in his pocket. Rafik was a live wire and way too reckless for Domo's tastes. Had he known prior that Rafik would be rolling with them, Domo would've probably changed his mind again, but by that point it was too late to turn back.

LA was slunk low in the passenger seat, smoking a blunt of something that smelled like horseshit. He and Rafik had been ping-ponging the blunt back and forth and hadn't attempted to pass it. Not that Domo would've taken it anyway. There were rumors in the hood about LA sometimes dabbling in things heavier than weed, but Domo believed to each his own and didn't judge him for it. So long as he never tried to lace Domo when they smoked together, he didn't have a problem with it. LA's thumb clicked the safety of his gun on and off in a rhythm, and he seemed jittery. Domo wasn't sure if it was his nerves or the effects of whatever they were smoking.

Behind the wheel of the minivan was the girl he had seen earlier in the BMW. She had changed out of her green wig and dress, and now wore a black wig and black hoodie. Domo had learned that her name was Vita. She hadn't said much, but from the few words she did speak, he picked up on an accent that placed her origins somewhere in the Deep South. From where exactly that was, he wasn't sure and he dared not ask. There was something about Vita that gave him the creeps. As if she could feel his thoughts, she glanced up at the rearview mirror and looked at him.

As they crossed the George Washington Bridge and rolled into the section of New York known as Washington Heights, Domo's heart beat a little faster. They had almost arrived at their destination. It was time to put up or shut up.

Vita turned to LA. “Everybody know what they're supposed to be doing?” she asked as she pulled the minivan to a stop next to a fire hydrant in front of a tenement building.

“Sho nuff.” LA chambered a round into his gun.

Vita turned around and addressed the two youngsters in the backseat. “Remember, no cowboy shit. Y'all follow my lead, and we all walk out of there in one piece, get it?”

“No doubt. These muthafuckas ain't gonna know what hit 'em!” Rafik boasted.

“You sure you up for this, pretty boy?” Vita asked Domo, seeing the worry on his face.

“I'm gonna hold up my end.” Domo patted the .22 on his lap. It wasn't the most intimidating pistol, but it was all he had.

Vita laughed when her eyes landed on the small gun. “Nigga, not with that piece of shit you won't. Reach up under the seat.”

Domo fished around under the seat until his hand brushed against something metal. He came up holding a small yet powerful-looking handgun.

“Glock .45,” Vita informed him. “You only got ten shots, but when that bitch spits, it makes a statement, just like me. It's from my personal stash, so make sure you return the muthafucka when the job is done.” Then she jumped out of the van.

LA and Rafik followed closely behind Vita into the building. She warned them that no matter what happened, they were to keep their guns hidden until she said otherwise, which bothered Domo. If they were going to rob the spot, then it'd be best for them to already have their guns out so no one could get the drop on them. From the looks on LA's and Rafik's faces, that didn't sit too well with them, either, but Vita was calling the shots and so they did what they were told. She bounced up the steps and then motioned for them to wait on the second-floor landing until she gave the signal.

On the floor just above them they could hear Vita speaking to a man in the hallway. Domo tried to eavesdrop, but he couldn't understand what they were saying because Vita was speaking to the man in Spanish. The conversation started off in a soft tone; then they heard the man yelp, followed by two quick chirping sounds. A split second later there was the sound of something heavy hitting the floor. Assuming that was the signal, they rushed up the stairs. Vita was standing in the middle of the hallway, holding a 9mm, smoke coming from the silencer screwed onto the end of the barrel.

“Damn, how you gonna start the party without us?” Rafik asked in disappointment.

“Shut the fuck up before these niggas hear you and you get us killed,” Vita hissed as she fished through the dead man's pants pocket. She came out holding a single key at the end of a leather strip. “Now look, we gonna go in here and bag these niggas for all their shit and get gone. She addressed Domo. “Pretty boy, you play the top of the stairs and cover our backs. Anybody come up these bitches, you drop their asses. You got it?”

Domo nodded. Too nervous to speak.

“Good.” She eased the key into the lock. “Now let's go in here and relieve these pussies of their shit.”

Vita and the others had barely been in the apartment thirty seconds before the shooting started. They had left the door open, so it gave Domo a clear view down the long hallway that ran the length of the apartment into the living room. The people inside the apartment scrambled back and forth, some returning fire while others were just trying to get out of the way. LA and Rafik were like two cowboys, going from room to room and shooting anything moving. Vita was more poised, taking her time and measuring every shot before she took it. Watching her was like watching a professional figure skater going for Olympic gold. A woman came darting out of one of the rooms and was running down the hallway toward the open front door. She had almost cleared it when something slammed into the back of her head and she pitched forward. A few feet behind her, Vita stood. She put one more bullet into the woman's body for good measure. They had invited Domo to participate in a robbery, but what was going on inside the apartment wasn't a robbery; it was an extermination.

Rafik and LA were in one of the rooms, doing only God knew what, while Vita crouched down on the living room floor, scooping up scattered money into a garbage bag. Just beyond her, Domo caught a flicker of motion across the behind the shade of the living room window. He thought his mind was playing tricks on him until he saw a pair of hands just below the bottom of the drawn shade, lifting the window up. Vita was so focused on the money that she didn't see the two men slip in behind her. Without thinking about it, Domo abandoned his post at the top of the stairs and rushed down the hallway.

Vita looked up with a start when she heard the heavy footfalls coming down the hall. When she saw Domo rushing toward her, she thought the hired guns from New Jersey were attempting to cross her, so she raised her gun, ready to fire. Just before she squeezed the trigger, Domo let off a barrage of shots that sailed over her head. She heard a scream, followed by the sounds of breaking glass. She turned around in time to see one of her would-be killers falling backward out the window. She rolled to her right just as Domo cut loose again and made the second killer, sending him flying into the big-screen television. She watched in shock as a cool and collected Domo continued to advance, pumping round after round into the already downed man. Long after the gun had clicked empty, he continued to squeeze the trigger, as if there might have been another bullet hidden somewhere in the chamber.

“I think he's dead,” Vita said, bringing Domo back from wherever his brain had retreated to.

Domo blinked as if he were waking from a dream. When he glanced down at the body at his feet, a look of sadness crossed his face. He had shot at a few people before, but to his knowledge, he'd never hit anyone. He had started his night out as a thief and would end it as a murderer.

“It was either him or me, kid. You did the right thing,” Vita said, trying to ease some of his guilt.

The commotion in the living room brought LA and Rafik running, guns drawn and looking for someone to shoot. When they saw the bodies in the living room, they were disappointed to have missed out on the action.

“Damn, what happened out here?” LA asked.

“I almost got my fucking head blown off, no thanks to y'all,” Vita spat. “What the fuck were you two doing so long anyway?”

“I was in the back room, collecting this.” LA proudly hoisted the trash bag he was carrying. “Came up on at least ten keys under the bed.”

“And what about you?” She looked to Rafik.

“I was in the bathroom, making sure we didn't miss none of their stashes. I didn't find shit, though,” Rafik told her.

Vita let her gaze linger on Rafik for a while longer, as if she were trying to read his face. “Fuck it—let's get this shit and get gone before the police come.” She slung her trash bag over her shoulder and started for the door.

LA looked from the bodies on the floor to Domo and patted him on the back. “Looks like you finally busted your cherry!” he said proudly.

By the time Domo and the others had come out of the building, Vita was already behind the wheel and putting the minivan in gear. LA and Rafik got into the back while Domo jumped into the passenger seat. He barely had time to close the door before Vita peeled out.

The ride back to New Jersey was a tense one, at least for Domo. LA and Rafik sat in the back, arguing about who had dropped the most bodies that afternoon, but Domo hadn't uttered so much as a word since they had left the apartment. He was reflecting on what he had done and what it would mean for him going forward. He'd heard guys tell stories about what it was like to catch a body, but nothing compared to actually being behind a the gun when you snuffed a life. Domo had taken two.

“Your first?” Vita asked, snapping him out of his daze.

“Huh?” Domo didn't understand the question.

“I asked if it was your first time dropping somebody?”

Domo nodded.

“First time is always the hardest. It'll get easier.” Vita cracked a half smile. It was the simplest of gestures, but it somehow managed to sooth Domo's nerves. He didn't know Vita very well, but something in her eyes told him that he could trust her.

*   *   *

They exited the Turnpike in the industrial section of Newark. It was an isolated area lined with old warehouses and factories that hadn't been used in some time. Vita turned the minivan off the main road and onto a gravel path that lead to the abandoned building where they'd stashed a switch car and fresh clothes. She pulled behind the building and killed the engine. The all filed out of the car and stretched their legs, while Vita busied herself rummaging through one of the trash bags.

“That was some good work back there.” Vita came from around the rear of the minivan, carrying stacks of money. “A little rough around the edges, but you boys have got potential.” She tossed each man a stack of bound bills.

Domo did a quick thumb through the money. “This is, like, five grand!” he said excitedly. He had never seen that much money at one time in his life.

“It's actually seven thousand. I put a little something extra on top for them niggas you dropped.” She gave him a wink.

“We got our hands dirty too, but I don't see nothing extra on top of ours,” Rafik complained.

Vita ignored him. “I'm sure I don't have to tell you guys to keep your mouths shut about this?”

“Nah, we know the game. Hear no evil, speak no evil. You ain't gotta worry about us Vita,” LA assured her.

“Good, I'm gonna drop you guys off, but I'll call you in a few days for some more work. That is, if you're up to it?” She was speaking to all of them, but she was looking at Domo.

“Hell yeah, we're up to it!” LA answered for them.

“Good.” Vita nodded in approval. “Now, there's just one more piece of business we need to wrap up.” Without warning, Vita whipped out her 9mm and shot Rafik in the face.

“What the fuck?” LA jumped back to avoid the blood splatter. Domo just stood there, too stunned to speak or move.

“Shut up,” Vita commanded, turning the 9mm on LA, her pistol sweeping back and forth between LA and Domo. She knelt and patted Rafik's corpse down. “Bingo,” she said when she felt the bulge under his shirt. When she stood up, she was holding the parcel of cocaine Rafik had found in the bathroom and lied about. “This nigga was a fucking thief.” She held the coke up for both of them to see. “Two things we don't tolerate in our organization are snitching and stealing from our own. A man who would take food out of his own family's mouth ain't worth shit. “Now, we can get into some gangster shit over what I did to your homeboy or we can charge this shit to the game and I bring you two in to make some real paper. Either way, I don't give a fuck, so pick your poison.”