Chapter One
Boss of Bosses
The eighteen-foot speedboat zoomed across the top of the ocean’s water, hitting each wave at almost eighty miles per hour. Seven smiled while a cigar hung out the left side of his mouth and the sun beamed down on his skin. He looked over and saw the other speedboat was neck to neck with him while his right hand man steered the watercraft. Ordinary boatmen wouldn’t dare push an $80,000 luxury watercraft to the max; but they weren’t ordinary boaters.... they were street millionaires who just so happen to be in boats.
Seven was the head of the operation and boss of all bosses. You couldn’t mention heroin in Ohio, if Seven’s name wasn’t somewhere in the sentence. An all-white linen shirt hung on Seven’s shoulders perfectly, and he left the buttons unfastened to allow the wind to blow through the expensive fabric while displaying his slight gut. He glanced over at Ball, who was driving the other boat, and laughed aloud as he knew that he had won the race. Seven slowed down after he passed the marker and threw both of his hands up in victory. As the other boat approached, Seven looked at Ball and smiled.
“I want my money all in ones,” Seven teased as they had just bet $20,000 on the thirty-second race.
“It’s nothing,” Ball spat back with a smile as he tossed his anchor over board and put the engine an idle. Seven did the same and put out his cigar as he looked down at his watch and saw they were right on time.
“Packages should be here any minute now,” Seven whispered under his breath as he scanned over the massive ocean while he put his hand over his brow, blocking the beaming sun rays. Just as expected, a single engine jet came across the skies, leaving a trail of white smoke as the aircraft zoomed through the clouds. Ball looked in the sky and watched as duct taped packages fell from the jet and landed in the water only a few yards away from them. Seven immediately grew a grin on his face and began to think about the money he would get when he turned the powder substance that was in the packages into green bills. Seven looked over at Ball and nodded his head while giving him a smile as if he was saying “Time to get to the money,” and Ball returned the smile as he rubbed his hands together.
“Yo, remember this spot ... the drop-off is always made on the fifteenth marker,” Seven instructed Ball as he pointed to the ocean marker. Ball made a mental note so he would remember where to pick up the dope next time around. Seven signaled Ball to hop over in his boat and Ball quickly did just that. Seven, while the boat was idle, guided it to the spot where the packages were dropped.
“Help me out,” Seven said as he grabbed a long steel pole with a net on the end of it and began retrieving the dope from the water. Ball helped him load the oversized duffle bags onto the boat, both of them containing fifty kilos each. They both loaded it onto the boat and a patrol boat was approaching them fast.
“Ah shit ... we got company,” Ball said as he grew uneasy. He noticed a boat approaching them, which contained three uniformed men. A huge U.S. Coast Guard logo resided on the side of their speedboat and the sight alone made Ball’s heart skip a beat.
“Relax. Just be calm,” Seven instructed as he continued to load the bags onto the boat. “Good evening gentlemen,” Seven said as shook his hands dry and rolled up his sleeves. Ball’s heart began to beat rapidly as he looked at the badges on the guards that occupied the boat.
“What’s going on here?” the man who seemed to be in charge asked.
“Not much. My friend and I are just enjoying the beautiful ocean,” Seven said with a smirk on his face.
“Oh I see,” the guard responded.
Seven reached into his glove compartment, pulled out a brown paper bag, and tossed it over to the boat where the guards were.
“Same as always,” Seven said as looked into the eyes of the guard. “And smile ... y’all making my man nervous over here,” he added. Everyone, except Ball, burst into laughter as they saw the beads of sweat forming on Ball’s forehead. Ball broke down and released a smile too, sensing that everything was all good.
The guard slipped the bag into his inner vest and pulled off just as quickly as he pulled up.
“It’s like that, huh?” Ball asked as he couldn’t believe that Seven had the police on his payroll. Seven slowly nodded his head in agreement as he pulled his cigar from his top pocket and lit it, blessing the clear air with Cuban cigar smoke.
“You trust that he won’t turn on you?” Ball asked trying to understand the angles of the game.
“It’s not that I trust him ... I trust greed. I trust that the money that I’m giving him every month keeps him loyal to me. Always trust greed.... It will never let you down,” Seven explained as he began to pull the anchor out of the water. Ball soaked up the game Seven was giving him, and he admired the way Seven looked at the game as if it was chess ... Every move was strategic and well thought out.
“This is my last flip and I’m done with the game for good,” Seven said as he sat in the driver’s chair. He took a deep breath and stared into the ocean, obviously in deep thought. Seven grew a somber look on his face as new thoughts emerged in his mind. “I have to do it for Li’l Rah,” Seven said referring to his seven year old son.
“How is he holding up?” Ball asked, knowing that he was suffering from leukemia.
“Not so good ...” Seven said just before he paused and a great wave of sadness overcame him. He felt his knees began to shake almost to the point they were about to buckle. “The doctor said he has about a year left to live,” Seven continued as he turned his head away from Ball, not wanting him to see the hurt in his eyes.
“Damn,” Ball said under his breath as his heart dropped from of the horrible news.
“That’s why I’m about to flip this last shipment and hang it up for good. I’m leaving everything to you. I’m done with this game,” Seven said as he looked into the eyes of his protégé. Seven had a lot of love for Ball and in many ways he reminded him of himself. “I’m going to move to Florida with my son and make his last year the best year of his life. We’ll go to Disney World every day, and we’ll live life to the fullest. We are going to fight this battle head on and hope for the best.”
“That sounds like a plan,” Ball said not believing his ears.
He’s about to give his whole empire to me?
Ball thought as he looked at Seven.
“It’s all yours,” Seven said as if he could hear Ball’s thoughts.
“Listen man, just go ... Leave this game alone now. Leave these bags with me and go the other way. You and Li’l Rah should just go to Florida today.”
“What?” Seven asked, not understanding Ball’s logic.
“You have enough to live so why take a risk and try to make extra money.” Ball asked really wanting for Seven to leave for Florida at that moment. Ball had a bad gut feeling and just wanted Seven to go far away and never look back. Ball felt that the dope game would be better in his hands rather than in Seven’s.
“One last time,” Seven said with confidence. Seven’s eyes were piercing and he was determined to follow through with his plans. He had already had his mind made up.
Ball started to contest Seven, but he decided to hold his tongue. He understood that once a man had made up his mind, it would be hard to convince him to do otherwise. Ball jumped back over to his boat and started up his engine. Seven did the same, but just before he pulled off so they could head back to shore and flood the streets with raw heroin ... He looked over at Ball.
“Yo!” Seven yelled over.
“I love you fam,” Seven said meaning every word. Ball paused and let the words sink in. He had never heard another man tell him that they loved him before. He looked into Seven’s eyes and knew that the words were sincere and genuine. Seven was a real nigga and he wanted to let his protégé know that he had love for him.
“Love you too, big homie,” Ball replied. Seven slowly nodded his head and quickly pushed the throttle making his boat’s front end rise up.
“Double or nothing!” he yelled just before he sped away. Ball burst into laughter and quickly kicked his boat in gear, ready to race.
Minutes later they were docking their boats and ready to unload the bags into Seven’s Range Rover which waited at the other side of the pier. Seven had a duffle bag over his shoulder and so did Ball. As they reached the end of the pier, Seven felt strange and stopped in his tracks. He then noticed a helicopter fly over his head and he stared at it. It seemed like everything was unfolding in slow motion. Federal agents came from every way with their guns drawn. Some were even hopping out of the water with automatic assault rifles.
“Freeze, put your motherfucking hands up,” one yelled as they quickly approached. Seven smiled as he dropped the bag and put his hands up.
“Don’t say anything Ball! I will have us out in the morning,” Seven yelled with a small grin on his face. Ball dropped his bag and put up his hands as the feds rushed them. Ball dropped his head and knew that they would not be getting out in the morning; at least Seven wouldn’t be. Ball couldn’t even look Seven in the eyes ... the game was now over.
Chapter Two
Killing Her Softly
18 months before
Braylon looked down at his watch and noticed it was just a few ticks before midnight. He took a deep breath and rested his head on the elevator’s wall, waiting for it to reach his floor. Once he heard the bell chime, signaling his stop, he picked up the duffle bag that sat at his feet and headed out. He smiled as he felt the weight of the bag, knowing that it was full of dirty money, $44,000 to be exact. After her repaid his Dominican coke connect, Ralphie, he would have profited ten stacks which wasn’t bad for one night’s work. He had just sold two bricks of raw cocaine to a Spanish kid in Harlem who was moving heavy weight. Braylon was twenty four years old with the street knowledge of a seasoned veteran.
Braylon was dark as night, but had smooth skin and perfect white teeth that enhanced his appearance. His scraggly beard was perfectly lined, which gave him a gritty look. As the bottom of his timberlands thumped against the marble floors in his condo’s hallway, he thought about how he’d almost reached his goal of stacking enough drug money so that he could relocate to California with his long-time girlfriend Zoey. Braylon approached his door and quickly scanned down the hallway making sure no one was following him. He had a bad habit of sometimes being overcautious. He placed his key into his door and stepped into his dark apartment anticipating laying his head on his pillow and getting some rest. He sat the bag full of money in his closet, tossed his car keys on the counter, and made his way to the back room while removing his leather Pelle Pelle coat along the way. Braylon reached his bedroom and was so worn-out, he didn’t realize that his light had already been turned on, not like he originally left it. Just as Braylon was about to remove his gun from his waist, he saw someone burst from out of his closet. He reached for the gun, but quickly paused when he saw the intruders face ... it was Zoey.
“Zoey!” Braylon yelled as he put his hand on his chest and took a deep breath. Zoey smiled and looked at him with her beautiful green eyes. Her slim, smooth body was on full display as she wore nothing but a small t-shirt and red stilettos.
“Don’t be frightened baby. I just wanted to surprise you,” Zoey said as she sexily walked over to Braylon and rested her hands on his chest while looking up at him with her big green eyes. She was very fair skinned and at times people mistook her for a white woman. She also had long jet black hair, resembling a high end fashion model. She had the petite body of a dancer but her curves were plump in all the right places.
Braylon wanted to be upset, but when he saw her green eyes he instantly calmed down and grinned. “You got me good that time, but you can’t be doing that, ma. I could have popped you,” he said as he grabbed her by the butt cheeks and gently lifted her off of her feet. She spread her legs and swiftly wrapped them around his waist as they began to kiss, playing with each other’s tongue slowly.
“You were going to shoot me?” Zoey asked in an innocent voice as she playfully poked out her lip, giving him her baby face.
“Nah, you know better. You just caught me off guard,” Braylon said as she gently squeezed her buttocks. Braylon immediately felt his manhood begin to rise in his jeans and the tingle in his tip. Braylon placed her on the vanity and stared into her eyes admiring her beauty. He always wondered what a good girl like Zoey saw in a gritty hustler like himself. They were the complete opposite, but nevertheless they were deep in love with each other. Braylon loved Zoey with all his heart and he especially loved making love to her. She was his reason for breathing and he had promised her that relocating to California to pursue her acting career was in their near future. She was the sole reason that he was taking penitentiary chances by hustling in the streets. Best friends when they were pre-teens, it eventually blossomed into a deep relationship.
“I love you Zo,” Braylon whispered as he slid his hand down to Zoey’s love-box. He moved her panties to the side, already knowing what she wanted. Braylon noticed that she was soaked and her moaning only turned him on more. He gently slipped two fingers inside of her while rubbing on her clitoris with his thumb. While moving his thumb in a circular motion he used his other hand to unbuckle his pants and boxers, exposing his rock hard tool.
“Put it in Braylon, please,” Zoey begged in a childlike voice as she closed her eyes and enjoyed Braylon slowly finger popping her. Zoey was so wet that she began to leave a small puddle on the vanity dresser. Braylon scooped her up and laid her on the bed. He then slid off his polo shirt, exposing his tattooed upper body. He looked at Zoey and smiled as she slid off her panties and spread her legs, exposing her pink insides and clitoral erection. The sight alone almost made Braylon pop, but he held his composure and hovered over her. Just before he dropped his rod into her wetness he whispered he loved her. As he entered her, Zoey’s back arched in pleasure and a small moan escaped her lips expressing her satisfaction. Braylon stroked hard and slow as he moved his hips in circles, trying to hit the right spot. He then begin to tongue kiss her collarbone gently. Fireworks ... that’s the only word to describe this particular love session. They both felt the love coming off each other, and it was one of the best feelings in the world to the both of them. Braylon momentarily stopped moving and looked into Zoey’s eyes.
“I love you with all my heart,” he whispered. Zoey smiled and a small tear formed in her eyes as she was overcome with love.
“I love you too,” she whispered as closed her eyes anticipating him diving deep once again. They made love through the night, professing their love for one another over and over again.
Braylon guided his Range Rover through the darkened city streets, glancing in his rearview mirror as a precaution. He had executed this exact routine a million times before ... It was a song and dance that he knew well. It was re-up time and deep in his gut he knew that this would be his last run. It was time to give up the game. At the age of twenty-three, he had peaked in the game and there was nowhere else to go but down. So before he could fall off, he was determined to exit at the top.
Just one more flip,
he thought. The vibrating BlackBerry on his passenger seat caught his attention and he smiled when he noticed Zoey’s face appear on his screen. She was his world. Everything that he did was for her and he knew that he owed her everything ... that she deserved everything, including a man that she could be proud of. Zoey was a good girl and the last thing Braylon wanted to do was risk her safety. All he wanted to do was take care of his lady and after he moved this last shipment he would have enough money saved for them to move south. The beginning of the rest of their lives was within arm’s reach. He could see the finish line, now all he had to do was get to it.
He sent Zoey to voice mail to avoid the distraction that her beautiful voice would surely cause. He needed to be focused and to stay on point. He never mixed Zoey in his street affairs. Keeping her away from his business ensured her well being. His most priceless possession, he made sure that she was untouchable; unscathed by his gritty hood life. Zoey was too good for a hood nigga like Braylon and he knew it, but she stuck with him through it all. She had weathered the storm on his way to the top and now he was about to reward her with the fruits of his hard labor.
As he pulled into the lot of the abandoned warehouse, he hit his horn quickly to announce his arrival. Seconds later a Dominican kid stuck his head out of the door, confirming Braylon’s presence. He motioned for Braylon to drive inside as he lifted the garage door. Braylon felt the steel nine milli that rested against his waistline, and then nodded his head as he pulled inside. He reached over and grabbed the black duffel bag that sat beside him before stepping out of the truck. Underneath the yellow ceiling light sat Ralphie, Ball’s connect, with a cigar dangling from his mouth. The smoke danced into the sky as Ralphie eyed the cards in his hand and upped his ante.
“Braylon, sit down and come play a hand,” Ralphie said, never lifting his eyes from the table. Braylon looked at the other men in the room. Two Dominican men sat at the table with Ralphie while the young guy who had let Braylon in stood off in a corner, watching ...
An uneasy feeling passed over Braylon. In all the years that he had been doing business with Ralphie, not once had he ever had casual conversation with the man. Ralphie was always short and about his paper. Their relationship had been non-existent. Their interactions were nothing more than a transaction of goods and now all of a sudden Ralphie was acting uncharacteristically. They had always done business privately and the presence of Ralphie’s goons struck a sour chord in Braylon.
Just get the shit and get out,
Braylon thought as he stood with his hand beneath his jacket, palming his pistol. He kept his cool, not revealing his displeasure. On the outside he was a stone wall, but on the inside his sixth sense was urging him that something was wrong.
“Nah, I’m in and out like every other time,” Braylon replied as he peered unflinchingly at Ralphie and his henchmen. “You got the stuff?”
Ralphie looked up for the first time. He could hear the apprehension in Braylon’s voice. “What’s got your fucking panties in a bunch? Eh?” Ralphie asked rhetorically. “Sit down for a second…”
“Nah, I’m good,” Braylon said, this time more firmly.
Ralphie chuckled and then played his hand, purposefully making Braylon wait.
Braylon’s patience wore thin as he watched the fat, Dominican man ignore him. He tossed the duffel bag on top of the table, interrupting their card game.
“Can we handle business?” Braylon spat.
Anger flashed briefly across Ralphie’s face, but he quickly regained his composure and peeked inside the duffel bag. When he saw the different denominations of bills cluttered inside he had to contain his smile. Braylon had been a good customer of his and tonight was no different. The $60,000 in the duffel bag was enough for Braylon to cop three bricks of raw heroine.
“I’ve got to count it.”
“It’s all there but be my guest,” Braylon answered.
Ralphie nodded to the henchman that sat to his right, and the man immediately stood and disappeared to the back of the warehouse along with Braylon’s money. The uncomfortable silence that filled the room was so great that the sound of a leaky pipe echoed throughout the building. Braylon’s senses were intensified by his intuition. He could feel the larceny in the air and in his gut he knew that Ralphie had bad intentions. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he stared down the young kid in the corner. He noted the bulge sticking from underneath the kid’s shirt and knew that it was the butt of a gun. From experience he knew that Ralphie kept two pistols on him and he was sure that the other two goons were armed as well. He was outnumbered ... he knew it and from the look in Ralphie’s eyes, so did he.
“Yo, how long it take to count the paper? I’ve got somewhere to be,” Braylon said.
“You rushing home to that pretty little girlfriend of yours?” Ralphie remarked as he sat back and puffed away at his Cuban cigar. “I don’t blame you Braylon. If I had a hot piece like that waiting at home for me, I would be in a rush too. Is it true what they say about dancers? She must be extremely flexible.”
Braylon’s temperature quickly rose. “What?” he asked aggressively. Braylon knew that he had never mentioned Zoey to Ralphie, and he had for damn sure never said anything about her being a dancer. Braylon had been in the game long enough to know that there was an underlying threat behind Ralphie’s friendly disposition.
“How you know about my girl? Fuck she got to do with this business?”
Ralphie stared Braylon directly in the eyes. “Calm down Braylon ... it’s my job to know about the people I deal with; nothing more, nothing less. You’re good money with me Braylon. Relax.”
Braylon exhaled loudly. His nerves had him on edge. There was something fishy in the air, but before his mind could figure it out Ralphie’s henchman emerged from the back. “It’s all there,” the man announced as he passed the bag filled money back to Ralphie.
“Of course it is,” Ralphie replied. Ralphie pulled a large paper grocery bag from underneath the card table and tossed it toward Braylon. It landed at his feet and Braylon bent down to peer inside. Three bricks lay neatly inside. He picked it up and as he stood, the back of his head was met with the barrel of a gun.
Click.
He heard the round as it was chambered and he instantly knew that he had messed up. “Fuck,” he whispered to himself as he swallowed the lump in his throat. “It’s like that? This is how you do business? After I spend good with you ... you gon’ snake me?” Braylon had copped from Ralphie three times before, but this time Ralphie decided that he didn’t want to play fair. He saw Braylon as a young, black kid who could be easily taken advantage of. Ralphie was a low-level Dominican boss with high-level connections. Although he was supplying Braylon with the best ... the dope wasn’t at Ralphie’s limitless disposal and when he ran out of product he decided to rob Braylon. Despite their previous dealings, Ralphie had no loyalty and now that he was in a desperate position, Braylon became his new target. Ralphie and the other men pulled their weapons from beneath the table and pointed them at Braylon.