“How much that nigga want for that ticket?” Carlos asked.
“Four hundred stacks,” she stated as if she had just asked for ten dollars instead of damn near a half million. “He get the four hundred, tax free. You get the ticket with all the taxes and all the headaches. But well worth the pain, I must say.”
Carlos knew she was right and it was an offer he could not refuse. He’d gladly give Winkie the four hundred stacks for the ticket. He was going to take a small loss after taxes, but he would finally be legit! The more he thought about it, the more it made sense.
“Where my man at?” Carlos smiled.
“Oh, he yo’ man now?” She laughed, then straightened her face and stated seriously, “Look, I already know how you and yo’ goons get down and if anything happen to my uncle somebody already got instructions on how to handle the situation.”
Carlos understood what she was saying because it wouldn’t have been too hard to take Winkie on a gangsta ride and just muscle off the ticket and leave him for the vultures to feast on. “I feel ya,” he stated as he nodded his head.
“So what’s good?” Sabrina asked.
“Four hundred stacks . . . that’s what’s good.”
“No doubt. He hidin' out because a few stick-up kids heard a rumor about him winning, but they not sure. They still tryna find him anyway.”
“Aiight, don’t worry about your uncle. I got him. I’mma give him a little somethin’ on it as a down payment until the commission opens Monday morning.” It was Saturday, so Carlos had two days to hide Winkie out and two days before his money would be legit. Carlos really wanted to change his lifestyle and this was his opportunity. He was going to give Winkie 25 grand to turn over the ticket, and then pay him the remainder once the ticket was cashed in. He could easily take the ticket and say fuck Winkie, but he decided he would play fair for once in his life.
“Where he at? . . . Oh, and by the way. If you ever come back in here talking all loud and shit, I’mma let Preme break your arm. You know he salty about you fuckin’ Joe. And him and Face ain’t got over the fact that you was the one that told me about Monk and D. C. hanging out with Cross back in the day.”
“Man, fuck Preme. I had to cause a diversion and throw them nosey ass bitches in there off. And about what happened two years ago, I only told you what you asked. You asked who was with Cross and I told you. I didn’t say they was the ones who had robbed Mark for yo’ shit. Y’all assumed that shit and started that war on your own,” Sabrina stated true facts.
“Yeah, you right. But if Preme had his way, he’d still fuck you up.” Carlos laughed.
“Whatever, nigga. Look, this where my uncle at . . .” She proceeded to tell Carlos where he could find his gold mine.
***
War drove the Tahoe to the RealEyes Bookstore on 36
th
and North Davidson. Carlos and nobody else would suspect Winkie of being in a bookstore. The man who ran the joint didn’t mind Winkie as long as he didn’t steal anything.
Carlos guessed the old saying was true—if you wanted to hide something from a black person, put it in a book. And if a nigga wanted to hide from someone or a group of people, a bookstore was the safest place for him to be.
Carlos, War, and Preme got out of the Tahoe. Carlos stuck a $5 bill in the slot to pay for the parking meter since he didn’t have any ones. They walked in the bookstore to find Winkie wrapped up in a conversation with the owner about the effect of
Sweet Sweetback's Baadasssss Song
had on black film, most specifically the Blaxploitation genre. Carlos was shocked that Winkie had that kind of knowledge.
Once the conversation died down, Carlos pulled Winkie to the side. “Come ride with us for a minute.”
Winkie smiled when he recognized Carlos. “What’s up, big baller? Guess you and my niece had that talk, huh?”
Carlos nodded and told Winkie to follow him to the truck. She tell you about my insurance policy?” Winkie asked, making sure Carlos understood there would be consequences if anything happened to him.
Carlos laughed. “Relax, bruh. It’s all love. I look at it like you doin’
me
a favor.”
Concluding that he and Carlos were on the same page, Winkie followed the men out of the store and climbed in the passenger’s side of the SUV.
Once inside, Carlos got straight to the point, repeating everything he and Sabrina had talked about.
“How soon can I get the money?” Winkie asked.
“As soon as you get me the ticket I’mma let you hold somethin’ until I can cash it in Monday,” Carlos replied as he drove down The Plaza.
Winkie took a deep breath, then undid the seat belt and dug into his back pocket to get the ticket. He handed the ticket to Carlos.
“Nigga, you walking around with a damn winning lottery ticket stuck in yo’ back pocket like a piece of lint?” Carlos fumed. Then he turned to his nephew. “War, you got that newspaper back there?” Carlos handed War the ticket and sure enough, the numbers matched with what had been reported.
Minutes later, Carlos pulled into his driveway and parked. He reached under his seat and handed Winkie a bag containing the twenty-five stacks. “This a down payment. As soon as I handle my business with the ticket, I’mma give you the rest. In the meantime, Preme gonna stay here with you and look out for you til’ Monday.”
Winkie opened the bag and peeped inside. He almost fainted. Carlos laughed. “Nigga, that ain’t but twenty-five stacks. You might have a heart attack when you see the other three seventy-five.”
The thought of having all that money made Winkie’s mouth dry. He hadn’t gotten high in over a year and a half and he was determined to stay clean. But with all that free money he was about to get, there was no telling what turn his life would take.
Winkie peered out the window and cleared his throat. “Who house is this?” He asked as he looked at the spacious home.
“It’s my spot. At least for the next few weeks until I move into my new house.”
A smile spread across Winkie’s face, knowing that the deal he and Carlos had just made was on the level. Carlos felt good about bringing the man joy, and as Winkie and Preme got out of the Tahoe, he trusted that he was making the right decision. He watched Preme escort Winkie into the house as Winkie clutched that bag of money like his dear life depended on it. Carlos laughed at him again as he pulled off.
***
The news reporters had just left BobCutz after Carlos had announced the founding of the BobCutz East Charlotte Foundation, which he would use some of his “new found winnings” to fund programs that would encourage young black men to compete in local and educational programs. He felt good knowing that he was contributing to saving a community that he helped destroy with his drugs and violence. Some of the boys who were selected to pilot the program were creative to say the least, and a few of them reminded him of his and his older brother’s poor upbringing.
After the last of the news reporters left the premises, Carlos retired to his office. He loosened the black tie and opened the jacket to his custom-tailored suit. His phone had been ringing off the fucking hook and his shop was bombarded with people he hadn’t seen in years. News of money travels faster than the speed of light! He had chosen the shop to have the press conference so that the public could see that before ‘winning the lottery’ he was already a businessman.
Winkie even showed up, wearing True Religion jeans and Prada sneakers. Carlos couldn’t believe that shit. Now that was funny as hell. An ex-junkie turned baller overnight!
Carlos was finally legit, but he had one final matter to attend to.
“You ready to handle yo’ business?” Carlos called to check in with Tan.
The day before, he’d made his last re-up with Tan. This was the last time his hands would ever touch dirt again. He was tired of that lifestyle and determined to end it. After that last re-up was done, it was a wrap. He’d even cut off his man in Miami.
“I been waitin’ for over two years to handle my bizness.” Tan forced venom from her voice. “Another three days won’t kill me—by the way congrats on winning the lottery. That’s a smart move on your part. I like that.”
“That’s what’s up,” Carlos responded. He quickly changed the subject. “I checked out the club. Your people got plenty room by the bar to cause the commotion that would serve as your diversion.” Tan had told Carlos that she had three of her cousins from Jersey meeting her in Chicago to help her pull this off. They would be driving down and bringing her the firearm she requested since she couldn’t take hers on the plane. A baby 9mm with a screw on silencer.
“Justice and some of her staff will be working to make sure that the VIP room is set up for Kanye.” He paused for effect. “I wouldn’t recommend goin’ in because if she sees you, she’s gonna know you ain’t come to talk, and she won’t hesitate to make the first move. Plus, her security team is on point, so you’ll be outnumbered.”
“Well, if she’s coming out the front, all I gotta do is wait on her to bail out.” Carlos shook his head as if Tan could see him. She added, “Then blend in with the crowd. The plan is
way
too easy and one that can’t go wrong.”
“And the plan
won’t
go wrong as long as you stay outside. If you go in and she spot you, it’s a wrap.”
“Very well then. I’ll call you when I get to Chi-Town.”
“Do that.” Carlos pressed the
END
button on his phone.
Carlos let out a deep sigh as he looked at the prepaid phone he used solely for conducting business with Tan. In three more days, he was smashing the phone to millions of pieces. Then his last connection to Tan would be severed forever.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
After taking the five-hour flight from Charlotte to Chicago including a layover in New York City, Tan took a taxi to the Hilton Chicago, where she had booked the presidential suite on the twenty-fifth floor. She was glad she took the first flight out of Charlotte and arrived at a time where there were still enough hours to prepare everything she needed. Her cousins wouldn’t arrive until later. She looked outside at the Chicago skyline and was amazed to see the Willis Tower and the Trump International Hotel and Tower within view.
She pulled out her phone and texted both Carlos and To’Wanda to let them know that she had arrived safely. Tan placed her phone on the bed and then went to take a soothing shower to wash away some tension. Once she stepped out of the bathroom, she heard the “Nine piece” ringtone that she designated for Carlos and picked up the phone. “I take it you got my message.” Tan put the phone on speaker so she could get dressed.
“Yeah,” Carlos answered quickly. “Just wanted to let you know Justice will be at Phire & Ice in about three hours to get ready for the Kanye West party.”
“You spoke with her?” Tan inquired. She had full trust that Carlos would not steer her in the wrong direction, and she knew that if anyone knew Justice’s schedule, it was Carlos. She put on a black and purple blouse and black slacks that allowed her to pass as a tourist.
“Yeah. We had a nice lil’ conversation this morning about me possibly surprising her and meeting her at the event.” Tan rolled her eyes. Wasn’t no way in hell Justice was gonna see this nigga again. “Kanye is supposed to arrive later tonight so she’s planning to spend a few hours this evening to set up. All you got to do is send your people in to stage the commotion we talked about and when everybody is running out of the club, she will be in the crowd and you’ll be able to walk up to her, slump her, and then follow the rest of the frantic customers into the crowd.”
“This sounds too easy,” Tan replied. She laced up her black leather boots with a thick two-inch heel.
“Trust me, it is
that
easy,” Carlos replied. “Just make sure that you got a silencer on that monster and it ain’t no reason why you can’t slump that bitch without being detected. There will be so much noise and other shit going on inside and out of the club that no one should be paying attention to you. Remember, it ain’t no security cameras in the lot.”
Tan looked in the mirror and nodded her head as if Carlos was sitting right across from her. “You know I got a nice bonus for you on your next re-up after this shit is over with. I’m gonna show you love for my appreciation for all you’ve done.”
Carlos took the phone away from his ear and looked at it like it had a disease.
Next re-up
? Carlos laughed to himself.
That shit’s dead!
he thought. But then responded, “Yeah, good lookin’, I need it,” he lied.
After going over the details with Carlos, Tan ended the call and told him she would hit him before she was on her way back home. She felt confident that she would be able to get her revenge and then drive back to Jersey with her cousins for the night before hopping back on a flight to Charlotte. As she enjoyed the skyline and checked herself in the mirror to make sure she looked the part, she opened the door and walked out of the room. She had a one track mind . . . Murder!
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Girl! You need to tell me how you got Kanye West to come to a damn strip club.”
Toni shouted as she was sweeping the floor. Toni and Justice were in the private VIP room designated for Kanye’s arrival. They were both nervous but for different reasons. They both were concerned about Kanye’s impression of the place and the possibility of it becoming a place for him to hang out when he was in town. They had read in a magazine somewhere that Kanye had a thing for strippers and they wanted to make sure that he got the best impression possible. Justice had been on pins and needles, trying to call in favors to get some of the best dancers, and to get a few well-known adult entertainers to make an appearance in the club.
Justice looked at Toni and nodded her head. “I got connects.”
“You got connects, huh?” Toni retorted as she swept everything in the dustpan and then dumped the contents into the trash.
“It wasn’t as hard as you think,” Justice began to reveal. “I knew a girl that used to work with Amber and fortunately for me, she still had her number. See, that’s why I treat everybody I meet with respect because I never know when I’m gonna need them for a favor. But like I said, I knew the dancer that knew Amber, and Amber did her thing and handled everything from there.”