Animal (30 page)

Animal sat nursing a drink and acting like he was enjoying himself. He was wearing a fitted cap, pulled down tightly over his long hair and dark sunglasses. He had little to fear of being recognized because everyone in the joint was more focused on ass and titties instead of faces. The table he chose to sit at was in the corner of the spot, furthest from the bar. It had the worst view of the stage, but the best view of everything else.

He’d made it a point to arrive early that night, before the Saturday rush, and lay on his mark. Finding the perfect spot to see him slipping proved to be simpler than he would’ve ever expected. Holiday made sure that the whole world knew about his party, even going as far as running a radio promo for it. Hearing the young boy’s voice was like nails on a chalkboard, but seeing his face before Animal put his lights out would be like the sweetest nectar. There were many men marked for death on Animal’s mental checklist, but Holiday was at the top of it.

When he first saw Holiday enter the club, it made his pulse quicken. He watched disgustedly as the young thug diddybopped through the club, shaking hands and pinching the asses of the strippers like he owned the place. When Diamonds had given him the rundown on the man who was supposed to have
shot Gucci, Animal had expected a bit more. Holiday definitely had the demeanor of a dangerous man, but he had yet to reach the stage where he could be called “killer.” Animal was unimpressed and felt disrespected that such a nobody in the grand scheme of things had the audacity to touch something he held so dear. It took everything he had not to run up on Holiday and blow his brains out for all to see.

Animal just played the cut watching Holiday for the first hour. He was looking for Shai or one of his capos to show, but as the night wore on, he figured they’d decided to sit the party out. He wasn’t sure why they’d decided not to attend Holiday’s event, but when they saw how filthy he was going to do Holiday, they would mark it as one of the best decisions they’d ever made. He watched Holiday amble over to the stage and sit next to a young man who was clearly too young to be in a strip club but no one seemed to notice or care. The young man seemed to hang on Holiday’s every word as if what he was saying was the gospel. After a few minutes, the young man departed with one of the strippers, and Holiday got up and headed to the bathroom.

“This one is for you, Gucci.” Animal slid from his table and headed for the bathroom.

Ashanti played the end of the bar, tossing back shots of Patrón and sipping a Corona. He tried to keep his mind on business, but it was hard with all the grade-A flesh floating back and forth. Ashanti had been to Sin City before, but for some reason, that night, it seemed especially packed and had twice as many girls.

As if the whore gods had plucked the thought from his
mind, a short, brown-skinned chick with an ass shaped like a planet invaded his space. “What’s good, big time? You want a dance?”

“Gangstas don’t dance, ma.” Ashanti tried to brush her off, but she was persistent.

“For twenty bucks, I can show you some shit you ain’t never seen,” she promised him.

Ashanti twisted his lips in disbelief. “If you say so.”

“I
know
so.” She threw one leg across his lap and plucked his beer from his hand. She took a sip to wet her whistle before wrapping her lips around the bottle and slowly pushing the entire neck of it to the back of her throat. Just as easily as she slipped it in, she slipped it out and handed the bottle back to Ashanti. Then she reached down and began tugging at his dick through his jeans, getting it rock-hard. “You sure you don’t wanna spend the twenty with me?”

Ashanti thought on it for a split second. “Fuck it, I got a dub to blow. Where we at?”

The girl led Ashanti to a chair near the railing that overlooked the lower level, where the stage and single tables were. She shoved him down roughly in the chair and mounted him like a jockey who was about to race for it all. “All this for me?” she ran her hand down his waist and over his crotch.

Ashanti removed the gun he’d been concealing and tucked it in the cushion of the chair he was sitting in. “Not all of it, baby.”

She placed his hands on her ass and began to rock back and forth on his lap. The warmth of her snatch grinding on his manhood superheated it and increased the already intense throbbing in his muscle. She pulled one of her breasts from
her bikini top and shoved it in Ashanti’s face. The girl’s body smelled like sweat and cheap perfume, but Ashanti had smelled worse and still dove in.

He was so caught up in his lust for the girl that he didn’t even notice Holiday walk into the club until he was standing a few feet away from him. If it had gone down that moment, Ashanti would’ve been shot, because it was damn near impossible for him to draw his gun fast enough to defend himself with the girl on his lap. Luckily for him, the big booty chick was as much a gift as she was a curse, because Holiday couldn’t see Ashanti sitting under her. Ashanti placed his gun where he could get to it if he needed to and watched Holiday discreetly while the girl continued to dance on his lap.

He had expected Holiday to come out crew deep, but it was just him and a few of his goons. There weren’t many of them, but they still outnumbered Ashanti, so getting to Holiday would be tricky. Ashanti felt something wet spill down the front of his pants causing him to jump and turn angrily on the girl. She was pouring water down the front of herself trying to be enticing but wetting Ashanti’s clothes in the process. Ashanti started to bark on her, but the spilling water gave him a brilliant idea. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get a clean shot at Holiday in such closed quarters so he figured he would draw him out.

THIRTY-THREE

H
OLIDAY’S HEAD WAS SPINNING WHEN HE STAGGERED
into the bathroom. He hadn’t realized how drunk he was until he stood up and tried to walk. He had barely made it into the bathroom when he felt the telltale moisture build up in his mouth and knew he was going to be sick. Holiday kicked in one of the stall doors and threw up the turkey sandwich he’d eaten on the way to the strip club.

Taking a momentary pause before the next round of vomiting, he heard the bathroom door open. A kid wearing a fitted hat and sunglasses walked in. He glanced at Holiday and quickly turned away and went to the urinal. Holiday laughed to himself thinking how the dude looked like a girl with his long hair spilling from beneath his fitted cap. “Homo thug,” he mumbled drunkenly before throwing up again. Once he’d gotten it all out his attention went back to his overflowing bladder. He’d made a mess of the stall so he went to the urinal to pee. As he was pissing, he looked up to find that the kid with the long hair was looking over at him. When he noticed Holiday look up, he
quickly turned away. Holiday’s lips drew back into a sneer as he zipped his pants and went to confront the kid.

“What are you, some type of fag or some shit?” Holiday barked.

“What you talking about, homie?” Animal turned to face him.

“You think I didn’t see you looking at my dick?” Holiday shoved him.

“Oh, that? Nah, I ain’t no fag, man. It’s just that I ain’t never seen a bitch with a dick,” Animal laughed mockingly.

“Fuck you say to me?” Holiday retorted with his fist balled and ready to box, but Animal had other plans.

“I said you’re a bitch.” Animal drew one of his Pretty Bitches and pointed it at Holiday’s face.

“Be easy, fam.” Holiday raised his hands and began to back up slowly.

“I ain’t your fam, I’m your judge. You should’ve never touched what belonged to me, Holiday,” Animal hissed.

“Dawg, I don’t even know what you’re talking about. I ain’t never seen you a day in my life,” Holiday tried to explain.

“No, we ain’t never met, but I’m sure you’ve heard of me.” Animal took the fitted cap off and shook out his wild hair. “They call me Animal.”

Hearing that name stole whatever was left of Holiday’s buzz, and he was now as sober as a pastor on Sunday morning. “My G, if this is about Tech, I want you to know that my hands are clean of that man’s blood. I never agreed with Swann killing him and—”

Animal grabbed Holiday by the front of his shirt and brought the gun down across the bridge of his nose, breaking
it. Blood flew all over Animal as well as the white tiled floors. “If you’re dumb enough to think that I don’t know who killed my homie, then it’s a wonder you ain’t been murdered before tonight. Me and Swann will dance soon enough, but tonight, it for us, baby.”

“Animal, I don’t know what you think I did to you, but you got it all wrong. I ain’t did shit,” Holiday tried to explain.

Animal slapped him in the face with the gun again. This time, Holiday’s lip opened up. “More lies spilled from the lips of a snake. Since your memory’s so short, let me refresh it for you. Awhile back, you and your boys ran up in a spot uptown and turned it into the Old West, and my lady got hit by a stray bullet . . .
your
bullet, Holiday.”

Holiday’s mind raced back. He remembered the shoot-out with King James and his crew. It was the same night he took the bullet to the leg that put him on a cane. The same night he had accidentally shot the girl in the green dress. He dipped his head. “Fam, on everything I love, I didn’t shoot that girl on purpose. We were at war, and she was an unfortunate casualty,” he said sincerely.

“And so shall you be, at least that’s how the newspapers will write it up,” Animal told him.

“So you gonna shoot me because I accidentally shot your lady?”

“No.” Animal put the gun away and pulled out a meat cleaver. “I’m gonna cut you first.” He stalked toward Holiday with the hatchet.

Suddenly the sounds of the fire alarm filled the club. Outside, they could hear people screaming and glass breaking. Something or someone had sent the club into a panic. Animal
needed to finish Holiday off quickly and get out of there. He grabbed Holiday by the neck and pressed him against the wall with the cleaver raised. Before he could execute him, the door to the bathroom swung open and a young man rushed in.

“Yo, Holiday, we gotta dip. Somebody pulled the fire alarm or some shit and they’re—” Baby Doc began, but his words got stuck in his throat when he saw Holiday hemmed up in the corner. “What the fuck?” Baby Doc blurted out and reached for his gun.

Holiday used the distraction to make a last-ditch attempt to save his skin. He kneed Animal in the stomach, doubling him over and forcing him to lose his grip. Holiday jerked free of his grasp and tried to bolt for the door on his injured leg. Animal swung the cleaver for Holiday’s head, but missed and ended up slashing him across the back. Holiday stumbled but kept moving for the door, leaving Baby Doc still standing there fumbling with his gun.

By the time Baby Doc managed to chamber a round, Animal was already on him. He brought the back of the cleaver down across Baby Doc’s wrist, causing him to drop the gun into the sink. Animal socked Baby Doc in the jaw twice, dazing him, and tossed him headfirst into the bathroom mirror. Animal then grabbed him from behind in a chokehold and placed his gun to the side of Baby Doc’s head. His finger caressed the trigger, but when he looked up and saw his reflection in the mirror, he abruptly stopped. His face was stained with blood, and there was a feral look in his eyes. The boy he held in his arm had gone rigid with fear and tears fell silently down his face.

“Please, man,” Baby Doc croaked.

Animal pressed Baby Doc against the mirror and leveled the gun with his face. “Nothing in life is without consequences,” he told him before pulling the trigger.

Baby Doc’s eyes snapped close as he prepared for the end. He knew he was screaming because he could feel his vocal cords vibrating but couldn’t hear anything but the intense ringing in his ear from the gun being fired. The fact that he was even able to hear that meant that he was alive. Slowly, Baby Doc opened his eyes, expecting to see the killer, but he was alone. He kissed the ground and thanked God for his life. It was at that moment that he understood that Big Doc was right and Holiday was wrong.

Ashanti hit the fire alarm and watched in amusement as all hell broke loose. Hearing the loud sirens immediately sent the club into a panic without anyone actually bothering to check to see if and where the fire had actually broken out. The bouncers tried to get people to leave in an orderly fashion, but they couldn’t do much with the mob that was rushing the front door to avoid being burned up.