Filthy Rich-Part 2 (17 page)

"No beer. No drinks. Let's get down to business."

Brandon grew nervous. He knew Piper was going to come out of the bathroom at any second. The last thing he wanted was for her to hear what was about to be discussed. She was a firecracker waiting to blast off.

"Now, we held up our end of the deal," Londo rambled. "We robbed your girl and split the bricks with you. You held up half your end by getting the Bishops out of the way. Now it's time for you to hold up the other half. When do we hook up with Chavez?"

"Huh?" Brandon asked nervously. With Piper on his mind, he honestly hadn't heard the question just asked of him.

"Chavez, holmes," the goon said. "When do we hook up with him?"

"Uhhhhhhh…”

They both looked at Brandon skeptically.

Londo had a suspicious look when he asked, "Yo, you good? You look like you're on some preoccupied shit."

Glancing back at the bathroom again, Brandon said, "No, everything's cool."

Glancing at his partner, Londo asked Brandon, "Why do you keep looking back, holmes?"

"Huh?"

"Stop with the fuckin' "
huhs
", holmes!" the goon yelled angrily. "Why the hell do you keep looking back?”

"No reason."

"Yo, something's not right. You actin' real nervous and shit."

"Nahhhhh, everything's cool."

The goon pulled out his gun. Londo did the same.

Quickly throwing up his hands while still holding the bag, Brandon said, "Fellas, you're over reacting."

"Fuck you, holmes!"

"Fellas…”

"What's back there? Why do you keep looking back?"

"Nothing."

"Go check it out," Londo told his goon.

In the bathroom, what Piper had heard shocked her. The Mexicans hadn't robbed Nessa because Brandon
didn't
pay. They robbed her because he
did
pay. He'd paid them to rob her. As payment, they kept half the bricks and gave Brandon the other half. That wasn't all, though. Brandon had been working against the Bishops all along. Under a deal he'd cut with the Mexicans, he promised he could get the Bishops out of the way, which obviously he did. Now he and the Mexicans could have free rein over the Bishop’s territory with him keeping the local cops off their ass. Also included in the deal was Brandon's promise to now hook them up with Chavez.

The goon was now headed towards the bathroom door.

Pissed, Piper could care less about Brandon crossing Chetti, Luke and Darien. What had her pissed off was the fact that he'd crossed her and Nessa. No wonder he wasn't stressing about the amount of work she'd gotten robbed for. The son of a bitch was getting half of it back for himself.

"Muthafucka," she said. "That snake ass lying muthafucka."

The goon was getting closer.

She stood there for a moment. More than anger pulsated throughout her. More than anger flowed through her veins. She'd been betrayed. She knew Brandon had no intentions of sharing the bricks. He was trying to fuck her over just as well as Nessa.

"Son of a bitch."

Piper looked at her purse sitting on the toilet. Quickly, she walked to it, reached inside and pulled out a .45 Revolver that resembled the one from the old school Clint Eastwood Dirty Harry movies. Holding it in her hand, fully loaded it felt heavy. She didn't care though. Despite its size, she could handle it.

Piper was in no way, shape or form going to let Brandon get away with what he had done. She also was for damn sure not going to let the Mexicans move in on what was supposed to be hers. Refusing to let any of that happen, she clicked the hammer back on the gun, grabbed the doorknob knowing the gunman was nearly right outside. Closing her eyes and breathing hard, she swallowed a lump in her throat. Now ready, she snatched open the door, gripped the handle of the gun with both hands and raised it in time to surprise the goon.

BOOM!!!!!

BOOM!!!!!

Piper let off two shots. One ripped half the man's skull off. Blood and brain splattered everywhere. The other bullet tore half his neck off. He fell to the floor backwards with his arms outstretched. He was dead immediately.

"Bitch!" Londo shouted. He then let off two shots from his Glock, intended to blast Piper.

Falling sideways against the wall to dodge the bullets, Piper let off three shots of her own. All three hit Londo directly in the chest, blew his heart out his back and lifted him clear off the floor. The force tossed him backwards to the couch where he landed in a sitting position. With three huge holes in his chest and blood pouring heavily from them, he slumped over dead.

"What the fuck are you doing!" Brandon yelled, his chest heaving up and down.

Walking towards him, Piper said, "You low down muthafucka."

With the book bag in his right hand, he held his free hand in front of him as if it could possibly stop a bullet.

Tears flowed from Piper’s face, yet no fear was in her eyes.

He said quickly, "Piper, it's not what it looks like."

"The fuck it ain’t!"

"Piper, I was going to split the work with you. I swear to God."

Piper continued to head towards him with the gun aimed.

"I swear, Piper," he said as he took a step back.

"Drop the bag, Brandon."

"Piper, I…”

"Drop the fucking bag, nigga!" she roared.

"Okay, okay,” he said quickly. He dropped the bag.

"Turn around."

"Piper, look, I…”

"Turn!!!!!"

He did as he was told.

"Get on your knees."

"Piper…”

"Now!!!!!"

He did.

Piper stepped up behind him and placed the gun to his skull. “You fuckin’ snake. You fucked and betrayed both me and my daughter. And you killed Byron. Nothing about you is right!”

"Now, Piper, think about this. Think about what you're doing. I'm a federal agent. You kill me, the agency will rain hell down on you. I'm serious. Do you know what they do to people who kill Feds? They'll fry you, Piper. And if they ever discover a way to bring people back from the dead, they'll bring you back and fry you again. Think about that, Piper. Don't do this."

Piper kept the gun aimed.

"Okay, okay, baby, I'm sorry I crossed you. Piper, look, we can work this out. We can split the bricks, sweetheart. Shit, as a matter of fact, I don't even want them. You can have them. Take them, baby. I don't want them."

Piper said not a word. She just kept her eyes and the gun aimed at the center of his skull.

Growing frustrated that his words weren't working, he yelled, "Goddamn it, Piper!" Tears began to stream down his face. "Please don't kill me. I don't want to die, Piper. Please let me live. I'll get out of town. I promise!"

Knowing he was lying, Piper finally did what she knew had no choice but to do...

She squeezed the trigger.

As the thundering sound of the gun shot rattled the room, Brandon's head exploded like a pumpkin. The power of the gun and bullet sent blood splatter back into Piper's face. As it did, she watched Brandon's body collapse to the floor. Seconds after he fell, knowing she had no time to stick around, she snatched the book bag and darted out the back door. As she did, she began coughing heavily again. Even in such an extreme situation, her cancer was showing no mercy.

Piper's days were numbered.

Chapter 15

Bishop funerals were usually lavish and extravagant events. They usually took place in cathedrals. There were usually hundreds to thousands of people in attendance, all dressed in the most expensive clothes. There were usually Limos and Bentleys lining the curb and stretching from one end of the street to the other. Every Bishop was sent out that way; like kings and queens.

Not Darien, though.

Darien's funeral took place in the tiny chapel of The County Jail. Although dead, the Feds were not going to release him from state custody until their case against him was over. Even then, if found guilty and convicted, his body would remain in Potter's Field with a wooden steak for a head stone until his entire sentence was up. Then and
only
then would his family be able to have his body dug up and transported to the burial place of their choosing if they hadn't forgotten about him by then.

Chetti was sitting in the front row of the chapel along with Mac as the pastor spoke from the podium beside Darien's closed casket. After Darien’s body had been with mortuary services for longer than three weeks there was no way he could have an open casket funeral.

There were only several other people in the chapel. Usually, a Bishop funeral was a guaranteed packed house. But now since the money had dried up, family was showing they weren't truly family at all. Mortgages, college tuitions and everything else the family needed depended on Chetti, Luke and Darien to provide.  Nothing could any longer be paid for, as loyalty was a thing of the past. Darien was now considered out of sight and out of mind.

Chetti wasn't sure if Luke would attend. She doubted it. He'd probably either viewed the body
before
the official funeral, or he would view it
afterward
. She knew the Feds wouldn't bring him knowing he was a snitch, and that his life was on the line because of it. Neither Trinity nor Cedrick showed up either. And just like Luke, Chetti wasn't expecting them to although she still had Mac out looking for the two of them every day. She
was
surprised though that Brandon hadn't shown up. In fact, he hadn't answered his phone in a few days. Chetti was definitely displeased with that.

As the pastor spoke, Chetti sat in a black Dolce & Gabanna dress. A dark veil hung over her face from her fedora. Her legs were crossed. Her shoulders were straight. She held her head high. Still though, underneath the concealment of the fedora, tears were running down her cheeks.

The door of the chapel opened. A young lady entered. Chetti turned to see her and was surprised that she'd shown. The young lady was her niece Raquel, the niece who was having sex with Darien the day the mansion was busted. Chetti wasn't expecting to see her but was glad she was coming to show her respects.

Reaching the front row of the chapel, the opposite row Chetti was sitting in, Raquel sat down. She then looked over at Chetti. Chetti looked over at her also. Expecting to see sadness, Chetti was a little thrown off guard when she saw Raquel looking at her with a stone-like glare. She couldn't quite make out what was behind it. All she knew was it wasn't the type of expression people usually wear during a funeral. Shrugging it off, Chetti placed her attention back on the pastor.

Twenty minutes passed.

Finally, he asked, “Does the family have any final request?”

Chetti stood from her chair. Mac was beside her. Dramatically, she made her way to the casket like Jackie Onassis on her way to President Kennedy's casket. She moved slowly and in a rhythm purposely designed to keep all eyes on her. As usual, even during a funeral, she had to be the center of attention. Reaching the casket, she looked at the photo of her son that sat on top of the casket.  She rubbed her finger across the photo, touching his cheek. Her heart broke immediately.

Chetti never had remorse for having someone killed. She'd had more men and women killed than she could count or remember. It was what she had to do to hold onto her power. If she didn't, she herself would've been murdered a long time ago. But having Darien killed still haunted her. She loved him. She loved him more than Luke and definitely more than Trinity, and would have no remorse once she had them killed. But Darien…he truly was her heart. Feeling her knees get weak, she collapsed onto the casket.

"Darien!" she screamed. "Darien, come back to me!"

The few in attendance took Chetti's actions as being a performance. She had always been dramatic. Even Raquel pursed her lips to the side. Everyone knew Chetti was a coldhearted bitch incapable of caring or loving anyone but herself.

"My baby!" she hollered with tears streaming down her face. Her pain and actions were genuine. Fuck what everyone else thought. She loved her son. She loved him tremendously.

Mac grabbed a hold of his boss and pulled her into his arms. She placed the side of her face against his chest and began to cry all over his suit. As she did, he escorted her back to her chair.

Raquel was the next to stand and make her way to the casket. Reaching it, she rubbed her hand across Darien’s casket. For moments, she just stared at the casket, then she looked back at Chetti. No words left her mouth. No tears fell from her eyes. She just stood there in total silence. Then, Raquel hocked up a huge glob of saliva and spit on the casket.

Gasps filled the room.

The pastor looked at her in surprise.

"You rapist!" Raquel screamed! "You fuckin' rapist! You and your crazy-ass mother!"

Chattering filled the room.