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Authors: Carl Weber

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BOOK: No More Mr. Nice Guy
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Bruce
32
Majestic was on the warpath about Keisha not coming to see him, so instead of sliding up into this spicy Latina piece I was messing with in Brentwood, I had to switch gears and head over to deal with Majestic's baby mama. Don't get me wrong. I didn't blame him, because if I had been the one locked up and one of my girls pulled this, I might've caught a second case. Shit like that was the reason I never had no children or baby mamas. I needed to be able to cut a bitch off quick, and I wouldn't want my kids to be no liability.
I got out of the car and went to the door, my hand still clutching my cell. Prison was a joke when it came to contraband. Majestic had a cell in Riverhead, and he was waiting for me call. As soon as I stepped up to the door, I dialed his number.
“Yes?” Keisha answered the door all sassy, like she thought being polite was a goddamn option when she saw it was me at the door.
“You know Majestic's been calling you for days, so how come you haven't been picking up? He's hot, Keisha.” I tried to warn her, but she just stood there looking salty in her sweats, twisting up her mouth at me like she didn't give a fuck. Man, I wished for one minute he had been the one ringing the doorbell.
“I'm not in the business of repeating myself, Bruce, so there ain't no reason for me to speak to him,” she said.
In response, I handed her the phone. Majestic had been listening to her every word. She looked down at my hand but wouldn't take cell, still acting like she didn't want to be bothered. I shook my head and hit the speaker on the phone.
“Yo, Majestic, you on speaker!”
“Woman, I been locked up in here for four fucking months and you ain't brought your ass to visit me once. What the fuck you think this is?” He barked the words at her like he hoped they would choke her.
She hesitated for a split second, and I fully expected her to fall into line and promise to be at the jail the following weekend. What she actually said shocked the shit out of me.
“I told you before you got arrested that I wasn't happy with our relationship and that I wanted out. I'm sorry it's got to be like this, but we're over. You need to get that through your thick skull.”
She had the balls to tell him this over the phone, but no way would she say that shit to his face. I was standing there waiting for all hell to break loose.
Majestic's voice thundered through the phone. “What the fuck did you say to me? I don't give a fuck what you want. No. I give less than a fuck what you want. Everything you have and everything you are is because of me, and you better fucking remember that. You lucky you got my son, or I'd have Bruce throwing your shit out my house right now.” I knew he wanted to tell her that she was lucky to be living, but the walls of the fucking prison cells always have ears.
She rolled her eyes like he could see it, and then doubled up on the attitude. I didn't know when this bitch had become so fearless. I was starting to think she had a death wish as she continued to defy him.
“Majestic, let it go. We're done and there is nothing you can do to change my mind. Oh, and this is my house. You may have paid for it, but you put it in my name to hide it from the IRS, remember?”
“Done? We're done when I say it's done, you ungrateful bitch. You better bring my damn son up here to see me today. I'm not playing with you, Keisha.”
He wasn't kidding, but she just kept at it like she had some kind of choice.
“I am not bringing my son into a prison.” she shouted back at him.
“Bruce, take me off speaker.”
I put the phone to my ear. “Yeah. Speaker's off,” I told him then listened to his instructions. When he was done telling me what he wanted, I almost felt bad for Keisha. I hung up and turned to address her.
“Go get MJ ready and go get dressed. Put on something sexy that will make my boy happy.”
She mad-dogged me, holding her ground. “I'm not doing it.”
Calmly, I repeated myself. “Go get MJ ready and get yourself dressed. Put on something really sexy that'll make Majestic forget what a bitch you've been to him lately, and maybe your ass will have a chance.”
She shook her head.
“You really think this is a game, don't you? Well, let me give you a word of advice.” I spoke slowly and calmly. “He ain't gonna be in there as long as you think. And he ain't giving you any more money if you don't let him see his son.”
“I'll take MJ to see him.”
I turned to see Debra, all made up and looking good, standing in the doorway. Damn if that woman wasn't looking better and better. She had on a short jean dress and heels, with her hair done up. Even if she wasn't as fine as her daughter, her easygoing disposition gave her extra points, putting her way ahead of that rude-ass daughter of hers.
Still full of fire, Keisha jumped bad with her mother. “You're not taking my son nowhere. I don't want him visiting no jail. Isn't it enough that damn near sixty percent of all men in prison are black? I don't want him to grow up thinking that's his future, so if the best I can do is keep him from ever visiting a prison, then I'm fine with that.”
“That boy needs to see his father, and he ain't gonna care if it's in a prison or a goddam amusement park.” Debra spat the words at her daughter, earning major points from me. This woman did not appear to be backing down.
“See, Keisha?” I said. “Why can't you be like your mama? She knows how to treat a man, and when a man wants to see his kid, you take him. Too many of these fathers out here don't care about their sons, but when one does, you women got to be the one causing trouble and making it hard for him.”
“If your daddy ever wanted to see you, I woulda taken you anywhere,” Debra told her daughter, who was looking pissed since we'd ganged up on her.
“That's not a place I want my son to see his father, all locked up behind bars like an animal in a cage,” Keisha explained.
Debra stared her down like she was willing to go head-to-head. “We don't always get what we want. At least Majestic will know that some of us are there for him. That man deserves some support, and if seeing his son is going to help him do his time, he deserves that.”
“Yeah, and you wouldn't want to lose your meal ticket.” Keisha sucked her teeth at her mother before storming into the other room and slamming the door.
“Let me get my bag and get MJ together, Bruce,” Debra said before disappearing into one of the bedrooms.
“I'll be right outside.”
I stood on the steps, thinking about how stupid Keisha was. That wench had no idea the can of worms she'd just opened, but at least my boy would get the chance to see his son.
Willie
33
“Now, I hope none of you take this the wrong way. . . .” Mr. Walker paused, staring out at the twelve graduates sitting in the small makeshift auditorium along with the staff, friends, and family. I'd made a choice not to invite Niles or Lorna to the ceremony. I hadn't even bothered to tell them about it, because I knew Lorna would have a hissy fit and insist on coming to support me. I guess I figured I'd gotten myself into this mess and it was up to me to clean it up.
“When you each take your ninety-day chip and certificate of completion, I hope to never see you again,” he finished, and the entire room burst into laughter, especially those of us who were graduating. I certainly hoped to never have to come back to this place again. I knew that I didn't have another chance left in me, so I planned to make the best of this one and keep myself sober.
Sitting there watching my fellow alcoholics walk to the podium, take their chips and certificates, and say a few words, I almost couldn't believe how much my own life had changed in the past three months. Not only had I not touched a drink, but I'd also managed to get a girlfriend as a sober person. Drinking just wasn't a thing anymore, and I couldn't wait to take my certificate down to Mr. Friedman and get my cab back on the road. I owed it to myself, but just as much, I owed it to Niles.
“William Monroe.” I heard my name called out, and I walked up to the front of the room, where Mr. Walker stood at the podium.
“Thank you. All I ever wanted was a chance, and this place gave me one. I know it's only been ninety days, but I'm excited about the life I have in front of me. I couldn't say that when I walked through those doors and signed up for this program. It works if you work it.” I took my chip and certificate and accepted the hug Mr. Walker offered.
I stepped off the podium, surprised to see a smiling Niles when he approached, offering his hand. “Congratulations, Unc.”
“How . . . how'd you find out about this?”
“Let's just say my new job has me privy to a lot of information I probably shouldn't know,” Niles said with a smirk. “I'm just wondering why you didn't tell me. You know I would have been here for you.”
“Yeah, I know, but this was something I had to do on my own, for me. But I'm glad you're here,” I admitted. It was nice having someone in my corner show up for me.
“I understand,” he replied, gesturing toward the door. “Come on. I'll buy you lunch. I know this hot sushi spot over on Jericho Turnpike. Their spicy tuna is to die for.”
“Sushi? Since when did you start eating raw fish?” I asked as we walked to the door. I was a Popeye's kind of guy myself.
“With my new job, I have to try new things because I deal with people from all walks of life. I can't afford to be close-minded. Sushi is an acquired taste, but trust me. Not everything there is raw.”
I followed him to his car, a new BMW. He nonchalantly flipped me the keys.
“What are these for? You giving that to me?”
He laughed so loud that other people in the parking lot turned to stare. “Have you lost your mind?” he said to me. “Hell no, I'm not giving you my car. I just wanted to know if you wanted to drive.”
“Do you even have to ask? Heck yeah, I wanna drive,” I replied be-bopping over to the driver's side. It was a well-known fact that I was a car guy. I slipped behind the wheel of Niles's ultimate driving machine, and man, it was like I was at home.
“I know you're excited about going back to driving your cab,” he said as we headed toward Jericho Turnpike, probably noticing my goofy, ear-to-ear grin. It was more than just the fact that I was driving again that had me smiling, though. I was ready to be self-sufficient again, and getting my hack license back was the first step—or so I thought.
“Maybe driving a cab isn't the most logical next step,” Niles said.
“Huh? I'm ready to work,” I assured him.
“And that's why I need to talk to you,” he said, his tone suddenly serious.
“What do you think of the car?” he asked. “How's she drive?”
“Man, this baby is like new pussy. I could lay up in her all day.”
“The real question is, could you drive her all day?”
I raised an eyebrow. “What are you saying?”
“Well, I have a little situation. . . .”
In his brief hesitation, all sorts of scenarios ran through my mind. I was so used to being a fuck-up that I wondered if I had done something wrong.
“Everything okay?” I checked nervously.
“Yeah, I'm good. I'm real good, but I lied to you, Unc, I didn't take that consulting job like I told you.” He really didn't sound remorseful.
“What are you talking about? How could you not have a job? What about all the new clothes, the money, and more importantly, what about this car?” I didn't understand why Niles would feel the need to lie to me, and I was disappointed that he had. After all, his success was the reason I had decided to get myself together, and now I find out it might have all been based on a lie? Not cool.
“No, it's not like that,” he said quickly. “I do have a job . . . but it's not doing consulting.”
Now I was really concerned. Come to think of it, Niles had been awfully secretive lately. Whatever he was doing must really be terrible.
“Okay?” I pulled the car over to the side of the road then sat back and waited for him to continue, my head spinning.
Niles put his hand on my shoulder. “Unc, I need your help,” he told me in a whisper that made the hair stand up on the back of my neck. My sister's child was not the type to show a vulnerable side, so he must be in some real trouble.
“Nephew, I'm here for you. I'm always going to be here,” I assured him. No matter what he had done, I would never turn my back on him. He had to know that.
“Okay,” he said, “but what I'm about to tell you, you can't ever tell anyone. Not even Ma. Shit, especially not Ma.” He stared at me, waiting for me to acknowledge that I understood.
“Sure, sure, Niles.” I nodded, wondering what the fuck the big secret was. “You can tell me anything. What's going on?”
He looked around as if someone might hear what he had to say. “Unc, I'm not a consultant for Dynamic Defense. I'm an operative. I do wet work for them.”
It took a minute for what he'd said to sink in, but when it did, everything became clear. “Wet work. That's just another name for assassin, isn't it? This all has to do with those murders at Sugar's that night, doesn't it? I was wondering why they released you so fast without a lawyer.”
The pieces started to fall into place. That night at Sugar's had to have something to do with this, because after that night, things had been moving pretty quickly for my nephew. He'd become a lot less talkative and lot more secretive.
“Niles,” I asked, “did you kill those men?”
“No, but somebody sure as hell wanted it to look like I did so Bridget could come swoop me up outta jail like a super hero.” Niles's face tightened.
“Bridget. Bridget. Why do I know that name? Oh, shit! You talkin' about the chick with the bucket list pussy.” My mouth opened wide when I realized what he was talking about. “You think she set you up?”
“Maybe not directly, but she or someone in her camp sure as hell did. She waltzed into that interrogation room and everyone snapped to attention. They weren't happy about it, but they released me in a hurry once she showed up. She made it clear that the only way I could repay her—and make the murder charges go away—was to come work for her.
“Once I passed all their tests and they transformed me into what they wanted me to be, Bridget handed me all the evidence against me and offered me a job,” he said. “I'm not gonna lie. With those murders plus all Ma's medical bills at the Wellness Center, I didn't really have a choice. I took the job.”
I turned and stared at my nephew, scared for him. “Niles, you know I've been around for a while and I've seen my share of shit. I'm tellin' you this don't sound like any defense contractor I've ever heard of. This sounds like a—”
He cut me off. “A CIA or NSA front?”
“Well, yeah.”
The look he gave me told me I wasn't far from the truth.
“Jesus, Niles, what the hell have you gotten yourself into?”
“Unc, I really don't know, but I'm gonna need your help if I'm ever gonna get out of it.”
I cleared my throat nervously. I wanted—no, I needed—to help Niles, but I hoped to God this didn't fuck up my newly won sobriety. “What can I do?” This was all moving way too fast, and here I was agreeing to it. Just like Niles, I really didn't have much of a choice. He was my family.
“I need you to watch my back. I need you to be my right hand until I can figure this all out.”
“What about your girl Bridget? What's she gonna say about all this?”
“Nothing. In my new position, I'm gonna need to hire a driver. Someone I trust and someone who can keep a whole lot of secrets and handle business if the time arrives.”
“Someone like a retired Marine sergeant?” I chuckled, reaching out and gripping the steering wheel. “I don't know what to say,” I mumbled.
“Just say yes.” He held out his hand to me. “There is no one I trust more than you in this world, Willie, but you should know that this job is dangerous. It's not working on computers or in an office. It's working with and taking out some very dangerous people. You may be called upon to take a life to save my life—or your own.”
I couldn't wrap my head around this just yet. Niles was working some kind of top-secret job, and he was offering me work to watch his back? It sounded mysterious, it sounded dangerous, but as crazy as it seemed, being his driver actually sounded like fun.
“Okay, yeah,” I said. “I'll do it, but on one condition.”
“What's that?”
“You gotta take me shopping. I can't be rolling around in this whip dressed like this, with you in the back seat.”
He laughed. “I guess lunch is going to have to wait. Let's go shopping.”
“That's what I'm talking about,” I said as I put the car in gear and sped away.
BOOK: No More Mr. Nice Guy
13.34Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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