The Family Business 4 Read online

  “Ain’t nobody playing with you either,” Kenny told her.

  Paris glared over at my brother, who still had his gun aimed. I was surprised by her confidence and cockiness.

  “Orlando, we ain’t got time for this shit. Larry’s crazy ass could show up at any minute,” she said.

  “I know, Paris, but they’re our family. I don’t wanna kill them if we don’t have to.” Orlando sounded as if he was more concerned about her pulling the trigger than us. “Now, fellas, just put the guns down and tell us where to find Uncle Larry.”

  “Not gonna happen, Orlando,” I spat at him. I wasn’t about to fall for their good cop/bad cop routine.

  The four of us stood, guns drawn in the darkness, with only the moon lighting our faces. The tension was so thick that you could hear the beating of all four hearts simultaneously. We were all ready to kill as we watched and waited with anticipation to see who would pull the trigger first.

  “All of you put the damn guns down!”

  Our bodies remained still, but we all glanced over to see my mother running toward us, carrying a big-ass shotgun.

  “Did you hear me? I said put the guns down!” Momma kept yelling, but none of us listened. Our Mexican standoff continued until she stepped in between Kenny and me, looking directly in my eyes.

  “Momma, what the hell?” Every time I moved my gun, she’d move with it.

  “Put the gun down, Curtis! Put it down now,” she demanded.

  “Momma, this ain’t got nothing to do with you,” I told her.

  “And this mess between Larry and LC ain’t got nothing to do with y’all,” she said.

  “He put my daddy in a mental hospital, Momma!” I said, beginning to get choked up.

  “I know, and he might do it again, but that’s between the two of them. Not you kids.”

  No one moved, and no one lowered a gun, and Momma started crying.

  “Curtis, you and Kenny are my sons.” She looked at me and my brother, then turned to Paris and Orlando. “And you are my niece and nephew. You can’t do this to one another. I won’t allow it.” My heart ached as she sobbed, but I refused to lower my gun. “Y’all are family,” my mother cried.

  Orlando took a step closer, lowering his gun. “Look, Curtis and Kenny, we are not here to hurt anybody. We’re here to help.”

  “How the fuck are you gonna help us?” I asked, feeling a little pissed off that he’d been the one to react to my mother’s tears and lower his weapon. The bastard had made me look like a bad son.

  “We’re here to help with your father. Your dad needs help, Curtis. He has some serious mental issues.”

  “Says who? You? Your old man? You’re a piece of fucking work, Orlando. You think you can come down here to our home and talk shit about our father being ill when neither you or your old man came to visit him in that hellhole once?” I shouted. “Fuck you! We don’t need that kind of help!”

  “He’s not going to listen to you, Orlando. Curtis is just as crazy as Uncle Larry,” Paris interjected.

  “My brother’s not crazy,” Kenny snapped.

  “And neither is our dad,” I added.

  “Curtis, Kenny, Orlando, Paris, please,” my mother pleaded.

  “Momma, go inside,” Kenny told her.

  I looked over at my brother, who had always been a momma’s boy.

  “Aunt NeeNee, for once can you listen to your dumb-ass son and do what he says? You really don’t wanna be here when your sons die,” Paris sneered.

  I don’t know what those words did to my mother, but suddenly she charged at Paris like a wild animal, pointing the shotgun directly at her chest. Paris instinctively pointed her guns at Momma.

  “You wanna kill someone, then kill me!” Momma shouted.

  “Paris, no!” Orlando yelled.

  “Then tell her to stop pointing that thing at me! You know how I am, Orlando!” Paris responded.

  “No, you put yours down. This is getting outta hand.” Orlando walked over and guided his sister’s hand to her side. “She’s our aunt. She’s not going to hurt you.”

  But to his surprise and mine, Momma cocked both hammers of the shotgun and said, “I’m sorry, Orlando, but I can’t let you hurt my boys. Y’all drop those guns.”

  “Aunt NeeNee.” Orlando sounded so disappointed, but he dropped his gun in the dirt. Paris took a little more coaxing, so Kenny and I raised our guns too.

  “I’m sorry, baby, but I’m not doing anything that your mother wouldn’t do,” Momma said to Orlando. Then she spoke to me. “Curtis, you and Kenny get in that car and don’t you come back, you hear?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” we said in unison. Kenny went over and kissed her on the cheek, and then I did the same. Orlando and Paris looked sick to their stomachs as I picked up the duffle bag and slowly backed away, heading to the car.

  Ruby

  23

  The house was quiet. Vincent had eaten, bathed and gone to bed hours ago, but I tossed and turned in bed, flipping channels on the television as I waited for Vinnie to come upstairs. When I got tired of waiting, I got up and pulled on a robe and slipped into a pair of slippers before I quietly eased down the stairs. The house we were staying in was so much smaller than our house in Negril. That house was open and spacious, with natural lighting that brightened every corner when the sun was shining. Here, it was old and cramped, and it didn’t matter if it was day or night; it always seemed dark and depressing. I walked downstairs through the small living area into the bedroom that Vinnie used as an office. The door was slightly opened. I peered inside and saw that he was alone, staring at the computer.

  “Whatcha doing?” I asked as I entered the room.

  Vinnie, startled by my voice, jumped in his seat. “What’s wrong with you, sneaking in here like that, Ruby?”

  “I wasn’t sneakin’. Why you so jumpy? You in here looking at porn or something?” I folded my arms and walked closer so I could see what was on the screen.

  “Why would I need porn when I have you?” he said seductively.

  “What is dat, Vinnie?” I said, looking closer at the image on the computer. It looked like a live video of some sort. “Is dat de house in Negril?”

  “Yes.” Vinnie turned back around in his chair. “That’s our house.”

  “Why you lookin’ at it?”

  “I’m waiting on something, and it’s frustrating as hell.”

  “Waiting for what?” I was confused.

  “Waiting on the Duncans to show up.”

  “De Duncans are at our house in Negril? Where?” I leaned in, watching the video closer. The screen flickered, and another view of our house appeared, this time of the back door. I didn’t see anyone or anything resembling a Duncan, though.

  “They’re not there yet, but they’re coming. I know they’re coming, and when they get there, there is gonna be a big surprise.”

  “What kind of surprise? Ya sounding like a crazy man, Vinnie. What is going on?” I turned his chair so he was facing me.

  “The entire house is wired to blow the fuck up. All I gotta do is push a button and the whole place goes up like the fourth of July.” He gave me a sinister grin.

  “Vinnie, I don’t understand. Why would you blow up our house? I love dat—”

  His phone rang, and he hit the speaker button. “John, what’s the good word?”

  “He’s on de way, boss.”

  “So, he went through with it? Frankie B is dead?”

  “Not only is he dead; de man blew up de entire Duncan transportation hub and half de damn block. He crazy!”

  “Get the fuck outta here.” Vinnie suddenly had a huge smile on his face. “You couldn’t have paid me to think that he would go through with it. My God, this is fantastic. John, I owe you, man! This won’t be forgotten.”

  “Thank you, boss.”

  Vinnie hung up the phone and reached for me. He pulled me into his lap and kissed me.

  “What was dat?” I stared at him.

  “
That was the best damn news I’ve gotten all week, baby. You’re not gonna believe this.”

  “What?”

  “Well, it seems that the Duncans may not be a problem for us after all. And that dope I’ve been sitting on the past six months may have a buyer.”

  “What? How?”

  “The Duncans have a bigger, more important enemy to deal with than Mr. Vinnie Dash—someone who is itching to come directly after them.”

  “I don’t understand what you’re talking ’bout.” I had an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I didn’t like it one bit.

  “Someone blew up their entire transportation warehouse to smithereens.” He laughed. “It’s one of the most important pieces of their business. Without it, they can’t move product. The motherfuckers are crippled.”

  I gasped. “Someone like who? Did you do dis? Because dey will come after us for it.”

  “Well, not exactly, but kinda.” He couldn’t stop laughing. “Anyone who would do something like that directly would have a really big problem with the Duncans, and they would stop at nothing to exact revenge.”

  “Vinnie, you’re confusing de hell outta me. I just heard you thank John for doing it.”

  “That’s the beauty of this entire thing, honey. It’s entirely confusing. Yeah, sure, I put the wheels in motion, but I didn’t push the button. It was one of their own. LC’s brother Larry did it for us. We’re teaming up to put the Duncans out of business, and they don’t even know I’m involved. He’s on his way here now.”

  “Whatcha mean he’s on his way here? Have you lost your mind dealing with dis man? You don’t even know him.” I couldn’t recall Orlando ever mentioning Uncle Larry when we were together. “How do you know dis not some type of trick, Vinnie?”

  “Trust me, it’s not. They wouldn’t destroy their entire transport operation just to set me up.”

  He had a point, but there was something not right about this. “So, why would dis man do dis to his own family?”

  Vinnie began to twirl his finger next to his ear. “Because he’s crazy, honey, like for real. He’s certifiable, straitjacket crazy. So crazy the Duncans have a bounty on his head.”

  “And you wan’ deal with dis man?” I was getting a really bad feeling about this guy Larry.

  “This is our one shot at taking out the Duncans once and for all, including Orlando. And isn’t that what you’ve wanted, to finally be rid of the man who killed your brother?”

  “Yes,” I said, although I felt my heart beat a little faster at the thought of Orlando actually being killed. Still, if that was what had to happen for me to get my life back, then so be it. “And dat would mean you don’t have to blow up our house and we can finally return to Negril, right?”

  “Maybe.” Vinnie turned around and stared at the computer. “Or maybe we’ll go back to New York.”

  London

  24

  “I’m gonna ask you this one more time. Where the fuck is Ruby?” Daryl yelled at the top of his lungs. The guy he directed the question to had been captured by Daryl’s guys, who had been keeping an eye on the house Vinnie and Ruby were allegedly staying at. I say allegedly because other than him, there had been no activity at the house in the past 48 hours. Rio and I had returned to the rental house to find this dude tied up in a chair in the middle of one of the empty bedrooms. Daryl and his guys took turns beating him in between questions.

  “I don’t know who you talking ’bout,” the guy said, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth.

  “You don’t, huh?” Daryl gestured at one of his guys, who hit the dude so hard that a tooth came flying out of his mouth and skittered across the floor.

  “Damn,” Rio said, sounding disgusted.

  “Keep lying to me and you’re gonna be gumming your next fucking meal—if you live long enough to have one,” Daryl threatened. “Now, tell me where Ruby and the boy are.”

  Daryl got no response, so I decided to take matters into my own hands. I walked over and took the gun out of Daryl’s hand, then stood in front of the man. He looked at me, his eyes full of confusion and fear.

  “Look, I’m tired, and I’m not gonna play games with you all night like these guys. As far as I’m concerned, my nephew’s life is at stake here. So, I’m gonna need for you to tell me where the fuck Ruby is.” My voice was calm, unlike everyone else who had dealt with him, which made him let down his guard a little. That was exactly what I wanted him to do.

  He looked me right in the eye and said, “Fuck you, bitch!”

  I looked around at Daryl and his people. Everyone was staring at me, waiting to see what I would do. “Fuck me, you say?”

  “Yeah, fuck you!”

  I lowered the gun slightly, and my eyes never left his as I pulled the trigger. I don’t know what scared him more—the sound of the gunshot, or the bullet that entered his foot. He screamed so loud I was worried someone in one of the neighboring beach houses would hear him.

  “Damn,” Rio said for the second time. “That shit hurt me. I know that shit had to hurt, didn’t it?”

  “Now, tell me where Ruby and her son are.” I aimed the gun at his other foot. “You think I’m playing?”

  The guy looked at me, panic-stricken, shaking his head. “Okay, okay, dey in de house.”

  “What house?” Daryl’s voice boomed over my shoulder.

  “Vinnie’s house on de beach,” he said. “Dey are upstairs. Her and de boy. He makes dem stay low so nobody can see ’em.”

  “Let’s go!” Daryl motioned for the two guys we had been working with, and they headed out the door.

  “Wait!” I snapped. “Where are you going?”

  Daryl looked back at me. “We’re going to check it out. We’ve got his keys to get in, and I wanna do it before they realize he’s gone.”

  “You better pray we find them in that damn house. You’ve already lost a tooth and a foot. I’d hate to have you lose your life,” Daryl warned the man.

  “Be careful,” I said to Daryl and his men as they left.

  The guy was groaning in pain. I looked down at his foot and stared at the blood as it oozed out of what used to be an Air Jordan sneaker. I didn’t know why, but I had an uneasy feeling about Daryl and our men busting up in Vinnie’s house on the word of some idiot. It just didn’t sit well with me. Daryl’s logic was sound, but somehow it didn’t feel right.

  “London, something ain’t right. This dude is lying about something.” I guess Rio was having the same thoughts as me.

  I looked over at the guy, who shifted his eyes away in a hurry, like he was afraid to make eye contact. Yeah, something wasn’t right.

  “Remember the last time when Sasha went into a house where we thought Vinnie was hiding?” Rio continued. “He blew the bitch up and killed Ruby’s brother and almost killed Sasha.”

  “Shit, you’re right. I completely forgot about that.” I glanced over at dude, and I swear I saw what looked like a grin come across his bloody face. There was no doubt in my mind now that something wasn’t right. I aimed the gun at the guy’s other foot. “What the fuck did you do? You think this is a fucking joke?”

  “Fuck you,” he said then spit at me. I clocked him upside the head with the gun. It didn’t do much damage, but it felt good and got his attention.

  “Say good-bye to your other foot.” I pointed the gun at his good foot, prepared to pull the trigger, but the bastard had the nerve to sit up like he was gonna take it. I guess he figured we were going to kill him anyway, so why the fuck should he talk?

  “You know what, Rio? Fuck shooting his foot. I’m gonna shoot his dick off.”

  You should have seen the guy stiffen up then. And that damn smirk was gone too.

  “Oh, that sounds painful.” Rio laughed, grabbing his groin. “And by the way, who are you, and what did you do with my sister London?”

  “I locked her away until we go back home, but remember: what happens in Jamaica stays in Jamaica.”

  “No problem. I l
ove this side of you.”

  “Me too.” I moved the gun to dude’s crotch, and his eyes went huge. “You might wanna turn your head. This is going to be messy.”

  “No! No! Please don’t!” The guy was trembling and shifting in the chair.

  “Then stop playing and tell us the truth!” Rio chastised, getting in the guy’s face.

  “Fuck it, Rio. He ain’t gonna talk. Vinnie’s been sucking his dick too long.”

  “But not anymore,” Rio added in a sarcastic whine.

  “De house. De house is wired. Vinnie is watching it from the surveillance cameras. He can see everything on de property,” the dude spit out in a hurry.

  I was out the door and behind the wheel of the rental car before I heard him say anything else. The tires screeched as I pulled out of the driveway and took off down the street. I had only been a passenger in the car when Daryl and I went over to stake out the house a few days ago, so I had to rely on my vague memory to find my way back there. I navigated through the dark, unfamiliar streets, breaking all types of speed limits and driving laws. I could feel perspiration forming on my brow and between my breasts as I prayed out loud.

  “God, please let me get to him. Please let me get to him.”

  Finally, I arrived on the right street and saw the neon sign of the jerk chicken restaurant directly across from the house. As I got closer, I could see Daryl and the guys standing at the edge of the beachfront property. I laid on the horn, but he didn’t look up as he stepped onto the walkway, headed for the back entrance.

  I screamed, but they didn’t hear me. If they got too much closer and the house blew up, they could be killed by flying debris. Fuck it. I slammed my foot on the accelerator and headed directly for the house, through the shrubs and onto the lawn.

  “Daryl, no! No!” I slammed my foot on the brakes two feet from the house and jumped out. I’d gotten his attention now, that was for sure.

  “London, what the fuck?” I heard him yell.

  “Don’t go in there!” I screamed, running toward him.

  Daryl grabbed me, and I pulled him back toward the street, screaming, “The house is booby trapped!”