Eve (30 page)

“Hold on, man.” Dre squirmed. “What you gonna do with that?”

“Easy, old-timer.” Teddy smiled. “I just wanted you to answer some questions, but you wanted to give us a hard time. So, we'll try it this way.”

Before Dre could plead further Teddy placed the hot knife to his throat. The skin on his neck smoldered and scorched under the heat. Dre screamed at the top of his lungs but couldn't move away. Pain shot throughout every fiber of his body. Teddy removed the knife before Dre could pass out.

Teddy grabbed him by the face. “Now, you listen to me. Somebody tried to have my friend killed, and I wanna know who it was. If you think this thing did a number on your neck, wait till you see what it does to some other body parts.” Teddy moved toward Dre's eye with the knife, but it wasn't necessary.

Dre turned his face away. “Okay, okay!” he shouted. “Look, I knew about the hit, but I wasn't in on the contract. The guy's name is Black. Johnny Black. The first try was a test run. He's the real killer.”

“Muthafucka!” Teddy cursed, pulling out his cell phone.

“What's the deal, son?” Spoon asked.

Vinny popped him in the head. “Johnny Black.”

Teddy hit the send button and cradled the cell to his ear. If Johnny Black was involved, then the situation was far more dire than they thought. Johnny Black was a killer made from the stuff of legends. No one knew exactly where he came from, but death always followed in his wake.

Carlo sat at a private table with his team, sipping drinks. As he had expected, the meeting between his father and Felon had gone over well. He took to the young man just as Carlo had upon meeting him. Until then, Franko had been reluctant to give Carlo the leeway he needed to build his own thing, but with someone like Felon at his side, he had no choice but to respect their hustle. The money in Harlem was rolling in and they were responsible.

Carlo was searching the crowd for the waitress when he saw Big Steve making his way through the crowd. The bodyguard was accompanied by two of the girls they had met the other night and another he didn't know. Carlo licked his lips hungrily as the quartet approached the table.

“Well, well.” Carlo smiled. “What do we have here?”

“You remember Sheeka and Rah from the other night, don't ya?” Steve asked, pulling chairs out for the ladies.

“I remember the other two, but who is this vision?”

Eve met Carlo's hungry stare. If it weren't for the Gucci shades she might not have been able to hide the contempt in her eyes. Just feet away from her were the two men who had played a role in the death of her best friend. It would have been simple for her to try and take them out right there, but the chances of her dying in the process were just as high. This needed to be handled with tact.

“Say baby, I never got your name.” Steve said to Eve. Something about her nagged at his memory, but he couldn't place her.

“Evelyn,” she purred. Eve could feel all the men at the table watching her. This was just as she had planned it. Men would always slip for a piece of ass. All she had to do was play nice and the killer would expose his own throat.

“Lovely Evelyn,” Carlo said, kissing her hand. “A pleasure.”

Franko looked at his son fawning over the young Black girl and shook his head. “If you'll excuse me,” he said standing, “I've got some business to handle. Tell Felon I'll see him around.” Franko made his way around the table.

As he headed for the exit, he had to pass within mere inches of Eve. When he passed Eve his cold eyes landed on her. It was the first time she was getting an up-close and personal look at the notorious Franko De Nardi.

Something about his face nearly sent her into a panic. A scene played over in her head, but it moved too fast to make sense. As the mental reel began to slow, Eve finally understood. Franko De Nardi was the man who had executed her parents years before. The room seemed to start spinning at a hundred miles an hour and she knew she had to get out of there.

“Excuse me,” Eve said, heading for the bathroom.

Carlo watched the young redhead leave and let his perverse thoughts wander. Evelyn was young and fine. He would be the envy of many men with her on his arm. His wicked little brain began to piece together a plot to get her into his bed.

 

Butter was parked outside Marcy Projects, smoking a blunt. He bobbed his head to the sounds of Nas
Illmatic
coming from the speakers. He had tried to force himself to stay in the safe house, but he hadn't gotten his dick wet in over a week and was about due for a romp. The projects he was hiding in didn't boast the most attractive women, and it was too hot for him to check any of his Harlem shorties, so he found himself calling Tahlia.

Tahlia was a chick that Butter called only once in a great while for two reasons. One, she lived all the way in Brooklyn, and two she lived with her baby daddy. He had called her about a half hour ago and told her to meet him downstairs. Now, forty-five minutes later, he found himself still waiting.

About ten minutes later, Tahlia came strolling out of the projects. She was wearing a tennis skirt and a tank top. Her large ass made the skirt ride up in the back, leaving little to the imagination. Butter tapped the horn twice, knowing she wouldn't recognize the rental. Tahlia slid into the passenger's seat and Butter pulled off.

“Damn, what took you so long?” Butter asked, irritated.

She sucked her teeth. “Nigga, my baby daddy is upstairs. I had to tell him that I was running to the corner store, so we gotta hurry up.”

“Cool, baby.” Butter drove for about two blocks and parked the car. No sooner did he kill the engine than Thalia went to work. She took his dick from his pants and put it in her mouth. She sucked him expertly while Butter rolled his head back and enjoyed it.

Johnny walked casually down the sidewalk, whistling a tune. He slipped on his black gloves and pulled a .380 from his coat pocket. He watched Butter through the rear window while he screwed on the silencer. Then Johnny drew his hand back and smashed the driver's side window. Thaila happened to be coming up for air and screamed as the window was shattered. Butter felt three things in succession: glass peppering his face, fire invading his chest and side, then oblivion. The night wind hissed twice more, then all was silent again.

 

Felon couldn't believe how Eve had come at him. He started to go after her and try to force her to listen to reason, but knowing Eve, that would probably lead to a fistfight. Only the sound of the plastic casing on his cell phone cracking under the pressure of his grip made him ease up. Eve couldn't seem to understand he was only trying to save her life. That fool girl really thought you could come at Carlo De Nardi's crew and win.

With the De Nardis, Felon could finally see the mountaintop. Eve's mission of vengeance would compromise that. The deal would put him on top, but he loved Eve. By her running in and trying to play cowboy, he would soon be forced to choose a side. Love or riches?

 

Eve leaned against the bathroom sink, trying to compose herself. Memories she had tried so long to suppress for so many years all rushed to the surface. She could still feel the weight from her mother's dead body trying to protect her from Franko's bullets. For years after the execution she had been plagued by nightmares. Sometimes she would wake up in the middle of the night and see those cold blue eyes hovering over her bed. She felt tears of pain welling up in her eyes but forced them back. She had to shake off the childhood demons and get it together. She needed to be strong. The order of business was Cassidy's murderer. As much as she would've liked to repay Franko for his crimes, she couldn't compromise the current mission. First, for Cassidy. But later…she stared in the bathroom mirror, eyes cold. Later, payback for her parents.

She returned to the table, where everyone was drinking and having a good time. Franko's entourage had cleared out, leaving Carlo and his stooges. Rah was whispering in his ear, while Sheeka made conversation with Tony and a reluctant Sal. Eve sat in the seat closest to Steve, which he didn't seem to mind at all, and crossed her legs seductively. Steve followed the movement with his eyes.

“So, what do you do?” she asked Steve.

“Oh, I'm in security,” he said proudly.

“Really? Private or commercial?”

“Private,” Carlo said, interrupting. “He works for me.” He smirked and pretended he didn't notice the look Steve was giving him.

She turned her attention to Carlo. “You must be an important person to need security.”

He grinned. “VIP. I deal in large sums of money, so it gets hectic from time to time.”

She flashed him a bright smile. “Sounds interesting.”

“I'd love to tell you about it some day.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Steve watched the exchange and felt like stomping Carlo and the golddigging redhead. She had already chosen, and now Carlo was cock-blocking by bragging on his paper. Not trusting himself to control his anger, Steve excused himself from the table to go get more drinks. On his way to the bar he passed Felon, who was making his way to the table.

It enraged him to see his boo making time with another man, but he refused to give her the satisfaction of showing it. He was quite surprised to see how quickly she had worked herself into Carlo's good graces. Whatever she had planned, it would serve Carlo right for slipping so easily.

“Hey, Felon,” Carlo called out. “Sit down and have a drink with us.”

“Can't,” Felon said, keeping his voice even. “Got something to handle. Just came to tell you I was getting outta here.”

“That's too bad. I wanted you to meet the girls. This is Sheeka, Rah, and Evelyn.” Carlo nodded down the line.

Felon nodded to each of the girls, but his gaze lingered on Eve. She returned his stare, remembering the intimate moments they shared and the years they avoided telling each other how they felt. Over the last few weeks it seemed as if they were on the brink of discovering something magical, only to have it torn apart by greed and revenge.

As she looked at Felon, she could see the hurt in his eyes. She longed to wake up in his arms tomorrow and realize this had all been a bad dream. They would laugh about it and discuss plans for some weekend getaway with Cassidy and Butter. But it was only a dream. Cassidy was dead and justice still needed to be issued.

“You guys know each other?” Carlo asked, noticing the extended eye contact.

Felon continued to stare at Eve. Her face was perfectly still, but her eyes pleaded for understanding. This was something she needed to do. “No,” he answered. “Listen Carlo, I'll catch you later. Nice meeting you, ladies.” Eve gave him a look of thanks, but Felon didn't even see it. He put his head down and left the club.

The happy group partied well into the night. Everyone got lifted off the endless flow of champagne, courtesy of the De Nardis. As the first rays of the sun began to peek over the horizon, Carlo offered to give the girls a ride home. It was an obvious ploy to get some early-morning ass, but Eve wasn't as drunk as she pretended to be.

Carlo, on the other hand, was slithered. He almost fell twice getting into the truck. The entire ride uptown he made advances at Eve. She whispered softly in his ear and told him of the things she wanted to do to him. Carlo was near foaming at the mouth when the car stopped on Ninety-sixth Street.

“Say, baby. Your friends are calling it a night, but that doesn't mean we have to.” He placed a hand on her thigh.

Eve wanted to rip his arm out of the socket, but she held her composure and smiled. “Not tonight, sweet daddy. I gotta take my mom to the doctor this morning. I'll call you, though.”

Carlo finally unclamped his hand from Eve's thigh long enough for her get out of the truck. Sheeka followed her, but Rah stayed in the car. When they looked to her for an explanation, she rubbed Steve's thigh and gave them a wink. Eve nodded in understanding and waved good-bye to her friend.

 

Teddy tried Butter's cell one more time and still got no answer. He had been trying to raise the man all night, but was unable to get through. Had these been normal circumstances he wouldn't have been worried, but they weren't normal circumstances. One of the best hired killers in New York City had been set on Butter's trail.

“Still nothing?” Spoon asked from the passenger's seat.

“Muthafucka still ain't picking up!”

“You think Black got to him?”

“I doubt it.” Teddy shook his head. “Only me and Felon knew where Butter was hiding at. Even if someone had an idea on where to look, the Bronx is big as hell. He's safe as long as he sticks to the house.”

“So, what do we do now?” Spoon asked.

“It's late. Let's handle dickhead.” He motioned toward the backseat. “Butter's probably fucking off somewhere and I really don't feel like dealing with his antics. I'll keep trying him. If it comes down to it, I'll send somebody to check on him. Other than that, we'll go check Butter in the morning.”

Spoon hopped from the truck and opened the back door. With some assistance from Vinny, Dre came spilling out onto the ground. His face was bruised and he had burn marks all over his skin. He was beat to hell, but thankful to be alive.

“On your feet,” Spoon said, yanking Dre upright. “It's time to raise the curtain.”

Spoon dragged Dre across the street to the threshold of the precinct. Dre shook like a leaf as he was escorted to the front door. The thought of what the men might do to his girl if he didn't go along sent ice down his back. He looked for some means of escape or bargaining tool, but still came up blank. When Spoon noticed his hesitation, he shoved him through the doors. Inside, the night shift was bustling about, performing various task. Dre walked timidly to where the desk sergeant sat and waited to be addressed.

“Can I help you?” the beet-faced sergeant asked in a bored tone.

“Ah,” Dre looked over his shoulder and could see Spoon, still standing outside the glass doors. “Yeah. I wanted to confess to a murder. A police officer was killed the other day and…”

Dre went on to tell the story as he had been coached. The sergeant called some officers from the back, who were all too eager to take Dre down to the holding cells. He knew that the police would likely beat him within an inch of his life for killing one of their own, but at least he had a chance with them. If he was lucky, he might survive to see trial.

 

Steve finally managed to get Carlo home. For the entire ride he had talked out of his ass and made advances at Rah. She didn't seem to mind, but it was pissing Steve off to no end. He was glad when Sal and Tony helped Carlo stagger his drunken ass into the building.

He was finally able to be alone with Rah. She wasn't as pretty as the redhead or her friend, but she seemed like a freak. While they were dropping their passengers off, Rah had been playing with his dick in the front seat. He offered to take her out to breakfast, but to his surprise, she refused. Rah wanted to get straight to it. “Ass for cash.”

Rah suggested a short-stay hotel on 145th and Broadway. This suited Steve just fine. He figured if he was going to pay for the pussy, he refused to come out of his pocket for an expensive hotel room. When they got there, Steve gave the clerk an extra twenty to overlook the mandatory identification. After they got the key, Steve led Rah up to the room.

When they got to the room, Rah didn't waste any time. She stripped down, showing off her petite body. Rah might be slim, but she was nice to look at. She worked his dick into stiffness, then put him in her mouth. Rah sucked his shaft and licked his balls. When she spit on his rod and sucked it off, Steve felt like he was going to pop. She lay Steve down on the bed and mounted his huge penis. Rah worked her hips like a vet as the bodyguard grunted beneath her. To turn him on further, she flipped on her stomach and started fingering her ass. She handed Steve a small tube of K-Y Jelly and beckoned for him to enter.

Rah's face twisted in pain as Steve crammed himself into her ass. Every time she thought about asking him to stop, she thought of what they did to Cassidy. Her sheer hatred of her partner made her endure it. Steve plowed into her ass like it was the sweetest shot he ever had. He came in ten minutes and was sleeping in fifteen.

Rah slipped from the bed and began gathering her clothes. She dressed hurriedly in the dark, so as not to wake Steve. Their business had been conducted and she didn't want to spend any more time with him than she had to. Rah was almost to the door when he called out to her.

“Where're ya going?” he asked.

“I'm going downstairs to get a pack of cigarettes,” she said. “You want something?”

“Yeah, bring me a bottle of water,” he said, but never offered her any money. Rah agreed and slipped from the room.

Steve lay there with his eyes closed, thinking about the wild sex he had just had with Rah. She was a hood rat, but she knew how to work it. He had originally felt funny about her charging him after drinking it up all night, but after he got the pussy he decided it was well worth it. He even pondered the idea of making it a regular thing.

A few minutes later, Steve heard the door open. He never opened his eyes when Rah climbed back into bed with him. She ran her tongue from his nipples to his collar bone, causing Steve to moan. When he reached up to pull her down on top of him, something cold pressed against his neck. Steve opened his eyes and found a familiar face staring down at him.

“Surprise, big boy,” Eve said, adding pressure to the knife.

“What the fuck is going on?” Steve asked, trying to peer at her face through the darkness.

“Shut up, you murdering sack of shit!” Eve slapped him.

“Listen, shorty. I don't know what all this shit is about, but you're making a big mistake,” he said, nervously.

“Nah, you're the one who made the mistake.” Eve gently ran the knife along his neck. “You killed my best friend and now you're gonna answer for it.”

“I think there's been a misunderstanding. Let's talk about this,” Steve pleaded.

“Did you give Cassidy a chance to bargain for her life?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.

Hearing Cassidy's name, Steve finally understood what it was all about. He had been singled out as the girl's murderer. Someone had implicated him in the murder and now some chick was holding a knife to his throat. The room was relatively dark, but Steve could see the familiar cat eyes of the redhead. She had traded in her dress and high heels for army fatigues and Timberlands. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he realized that he knew the person holding a knife to his throat. His wheels spun and realization set in. The reason he thought she looked familiar at the club was because she did. The redhead and Bullet's young apprentice were one in the same.

He couldn't believe that he had been so easily duped. He wanted to laugh, but the look of madness in her eyes told him it was a bad idea. He knew if he didn't do something, his life was over. Using all of his strength, he bucked his midsection and tossed Eve from the bed. She crashed to the carpet, momentarily disoriented. This was all the time Steve needed to make a dash for the door. When he yanked it open, a large hand clamped around his throat. Beast carried him back into the room, smiling menacingly.

“Y'all are making a mistake!” Steve rasped.

“Quiet,” Eve barked, turning on the light. “You've got some nerve. You murdered my friend in cold blood, and now you're pleading for your funky life. Why should I show you compassion when you couldn't do the same for her?”

“Because I didn't do it,” he said, choking up. “Listen to me.”

Eve thought about it for a minute, then motioned for Beast to let Steve go. Beast released his grip on his neck, but not before bending one of his arms behind his back. Steve figured he could take the big man in a straight-up fight, but they had the drop on him. His only hope to survive the ordeal was to be as honest as possible. Maybe when they heard what really happened he would be released so he could track down that dirty tramp Rah.

“Talk,” Eve ordered.

“I didn't kill your friend,” Steve blurted out.

“Bullshit!” She slapped him. “You were spotted dumping the body.”

“I helped to get rid of the body, but I swear I didn't kill her. It was just so crazy.”

“Tell me a story,” Eve said, pulling out a pistol. “If I believe you, then you don't get a bullet in the head.”

“It was all so crazy,” Steve said again, lowering his head. “Carlo didn't like how Cassidy had played him, so he wanted to put her in her place. They argued on the phone, but he convinced her to meet with him and sort it all out. I picked Cassidy up from her block and took her to the hotel where Carlo was waiting. They talked for a while, but then they started arguing. Cassidy took a swing at Carlo, so he punched her. They tussled for a while, but then it turned ugly. Carlo pushed Cassidy off him and she fell. It was an accident.”

“You're a fucking liar!” Eve raged. “I saw the pictures and read the autopsy. Cassidy was raped and beaten. She died from blunt head trauma.”

“No, no!” Steve shook his head. “The bruises were from her and Carlo's fight. Cassidy tripped on the carpet and her head slammed into the glass coffee table. She was dead when she hit the ground. We all panicked. Having a dead girl in his hotel room was something even his father couldn't fix. We all agreed to dump the body, but the seman was Carlo's idea. She and Carlo had been fucking on the regular, so there were bound to be signs of penetration. He had a few of us jerk off and smeared the seman on her vagina and underwear. He figured if the police thought she was a prostitute, they wouldn't probe as deep into the murder.”

Eve covered her ears. “You're lying.”

“On everything I love, that's the truth,” Steve said. “Lady, you don't know how much sleep I've lost over what happened to that girl. I might not have killed her, but I'm just as guilty for not doing something about it. For what it's worth, I'm sorry. I hope that sick muthafucka Carlo gets everything he deserves.”

Eve sat on the edge of the bed and tried to process what she had just heard. The mystery of Cassidy's death had finally been solved. It might not bring her back, but it would allow the family some type of closure. Accident or not, it still didn't soften what Carlo had done. He would still pay for the crime, but Steve had to be dealt with first.

“Let him up, Beast,” she said. He reluctantly complied.

“Listen,” Steve said, massaging his arm. “You don't have to worry about me warning Carlo. I'm on the first thing smoking out of town. I'm through with the De Nardis and everyone like them.”

Eve nodded. “Yeah, you're through.” She gave Beast the signal and he wrapped his hands around the back of Steve's neck.

“Wait, you said you wouldn't kill me!”

“No.” Eve gave him an icy glare. “I said I wouldn't shoot you. Beast, break his neck.”

Steve tried to struggle, but Beast's grip was unbreakable. He struggled for about twenty seconds before the bones in his neck snapped. Beast wrapped Steve's body in a sheet and threw him over his shoulder. A well-placed hundred-dollar bill insured that the desk clerk was out on break while the body was carried out.

 

Carlo was awakened from his drunken stupor by the sound of his cell phone ringing. His head spun so bad from all the liquor he had consumed that he couldn't make out the numbers on the caller ID. When Carlo answered the phone, the caller said two words: “It's done.” After that, the line went dead. Carlo allowed himself a triumphant smile before he drifted back to sleep.