Chasing Bliss (11 page)

Cyrus was a little shocked that Chase had found out that Khalid and he were still business
partners, and he wondered who leaked the information. He looked over at Corey with a shark-
black tint in his eye.

Chase held up a finger. “Uh-uh, Cyrus. Don’t you dare look at Corey. Corey ain’t tell me
nothin’
.
That’s my word.”

Cyrus frowned. “Then who’s been runnin’ their damn mouth to you about me?”

“That ain’t important, and it really doesn’t matter anyway. Hey, maybe I got a crystal ball. You
been lyin’ to me, haven’t you, Cyrus?”

Cyrus laughed and shook his head. The jig was up about Khalid and him. Cyrus had promised
Chase a long time ago that he would sever ties with Khalid, because Chase believed Khalid had
sent Herc Mercer to
kill
him and Corey—not to ask about Cyrus’s whereabouts on the day he died.
Chase had never trusted either one of them, especially Khalid,
and
he hadn’t trusted him and Rome
when they split everything three ways while Cyrus was doing his bid for the gun charge. Maybe he
was right, because Cyrus and Khalid had never stopped doing business, and with Herc and Rome
out of the way, the money was easier to divide.
Fuck this asshole and his screwed up sense of right and
wrong. He’ll do what the fuck I tell him to and like it.

Cyrus looked at Chase. There was no use trying to play the I-don’t-know-what-you’re-talking-
about card with him. His best bet was to own up and let it go, then maybe hope to strong-arm him
in a couple of days. He thought he might even be able to twist his arm by threatening to use Corey.
Yeah, that’s the ticket.
Cyrus leaned forward and hoped he looked apologetic enough. “You know
what? You’re right, Smoke. I’ve been lyin’ to you—well, not really
lyin
’…it was an omission. I’m
sorry. I should have told you, but I know how you feel about Khalid.”

Chase looked over at Corey, whose eyes were staring out the window. “Corey, why don’t you
go check on that liquor license? You ain’t in this.”

Corey looked away from the window with troubled eyes. “Yeah. I ain’t
ever
in this. Y’all gotta
figure out a way to see eye to eye. Shit is always hard between y’all. Work it out, please, ‘cause
I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” He left the room without another word, leaving
Cyrus and Chase staring at each other.

“Can’t you see what you’re doin’ to Corey, Cyrus? He’s always in the middle of me and you.
Don’t you care?” Chase sat back down in his chair behind the desk. “If you’re not gonna tell me
the whole story, Cyrus, then I got somethin’ to tell
you
. After I finish helpin’ you get your club off
the ground, I’m gonna step outta your life for a minute and give you some time to decide what you
want to do with yourself. I can’t keep livin’ the way I’ve been livin’ hanging around you. I want
more out of life than knockin’ people off to help you and Khalid put a strangle-hold on your little
piece of the drug trade and waitin’ for the cops to catch me. I don’t get anything out of it, and I
want to be happy. I deserve to be happy.”
You’ll never be happy, and neither will I. I’ll make sure of that,
Cyrus thought darkly.

Cyrus smiled wryly. “Is that what you want, Chase? ‘Cause if you want me to
pay you
to erase
Wolf, that really ain’t a problem.”

Chase leaned all the way back in his chair and looked at him like he was a mangy dog. “Pay me?
What the hell does that have to do with staying out of lockup and being happy? You just insulted
me, Cyrus, but if you want to play around with me like that, I’ll tell you what. If you can have a
million dollars on my desk by nine o’ clock tomorrow morning, Wolf will be pushin’ up daisies by
sundown.”

Cyrus laughed. Chase had just requested the ridiculous, hoping he’d be left alone. Cyrus sat
back in his own chair, tapping his steepled fingers together. Chase must have forgotten his infamous
ace in the hole. “You got a real good sense of humor, little brother, but I ain’t laughin’. Now, I told
you, I
need
Wolf gone, so if you want me to play hardball with you, I will.”

They stared at each other for a long time. Chase looked away first and stared out the window
that had so recently claimed Corey’s attention.

Cyrus watched him in silence, reading his face, trying not to smile.
I won!
It had been a simple
thing to bend Chase to his will, and he didn’t even need to say Corey’s name out loud. Cyrus
wanted to lean over the desk and stick his face into Chase’s and scream,
“Corey! Corey! Corey!
That’s right, motherfucker! I’ll get Corey to do it, and he will if I ask him. You know how Corey hates to
disappoint his brothers! He’ll do it, and he’ll fuck it up and go to jail! Even worse, he might get himself killed
in the process! You can’t live with Corey’s sentencing or blood on your conscience…SO I WIN! Talk your
righteous, better-than-me shit now, nigga! If I ain’t shit, you ain’t shit either! You do what
I
say, and I say
fuck
you
! Go kill him!”
But he didn’t say all of that. Instead, he sat there and stared at Chase, unmoved
by the tears that had started to slide down his face.

Cyrus sat, quietly watching his brother’s turmoil.
Should I do it? What if I refuse?

Chase’s internal argument didn’t mean a thing to Cyrus, because he knew he was going to get
his way. He hadn’t seen Chase cry in over ten years. Chase was as tough as they came. He had a
good idea what these tears were for, but he’d deal with that when the time came. At the moment,
he didn’t give a fuck. All he wanted was Wolf gone, and he wanted Chase to do the dirty deed.

Chase sat up in his seat and wiped his eyes with the hem of his Ed Hardy T-shirt. His face was
a weird mix of emotions: anger and resentment, sorrow and hurt, and acceptance and resignation.
He turned his head and looked at Cyrus; his eyes were like ice. “How soon do you need it done?”
he asked, standing.

Cyrus also took to his feet, as he really didn’t want Chase standing over him at that point in the
conversation. “End of next week at the very latest—but the sooner, the better.”

Chase looked at him with his icy eyes and nodded. “All right, Cyrus. I need to let you know a
few things right now, if that’s all right with you. I mean, these things might not mean
shit
to you,
but they mean something to me…and they carry weight. You ready?”

Cyrus shrugged. He wasn’t in the mood to hear a lecture, and he wanted to get out of there and
tell Khalid the good news that they’d gotten their way, but if Chase felt like he needed to get up
on his creaky-ass, crime-laden soapbox and preach one of his hypocritical sermons, then he had a
moment to pretend he was listening. Cyrus smiled and said, “Go ahead, Smoke. I’m listening.”

Chase’s eyes grew even icier when he walked around the desk and stood in front of him. “I just
need you to understand what you just did, Cyrus. You’re still my brother—I can’t change that—but
we ain’t friends no more. I can’t respect you no more, Cyrus, ‘cause you won’t respect me. You’re
settin’ yourself up so that Khalid will be your only ally.
You’re losin’ me, Cyrus,
and you best believe
if you do, I’m takin’ my little brother with me. You need to be
real
careful with me, Cyrus, ‘cause
you don’t know me like you think you do.”

“Okay, Chase. Whatever you say.”

Chase frowned at him. “Did you hear what I just said to you?”

Cyrus nodded. Of course he had heard, but he really didn’t listen or care. It was just a variation
of the same nonsensical babble he spewed every time he made a request like this. “Yeah, yeah. I
heard you. Okay. All right. Fine, Smoke.”

Chase stepped away from him. “What happened to you, Cyrus? I mean, you always had some
shit to you, but when did you become this motherfucker I’m lookin’ at now?”

What happened to me? You happened to me!
Before he thought about it hard, Cyrus had Chase’s
collar in his hand, and everything else was a blur. Chase tucked in his bottom lip, stuck his foot
behind Cyrus, and turned his body. His left arm came up, and his elbow met Cyrus’s nose with a
crunch
. Cyrus shut his eyes against the pain and let go of his brother’s collar. Chase stepped into
him with his shoulder, forcing him backward, as Cyrus stumbled over Chase’s shrewdly planted
left foot. The small of Cyrus’s back hit the desk violently, and Chase was on him in an instant, his
left hand circling his neck.

Cyrus was trying hard not to choke on the blood that was threatening to clog the back of his
throat. He opened his eyes in time to hear what Chase had in his hand before he saw it.
Click- wick-
wick!
Cyrus flinched and blinked. Chase had spun that damned silver-handled straight razor out of
his pocket like a gunslinger in a Western. It was open and gleaming right by his nose. Cyrus held
his breath.
This nigga crazy,
he thought, realizing all that shit had happened in less than a minute.

Chase’s face was close to his, and now he was smiling. “You grab me at your own risk, Cyrus.
I think you better think twice before you do it again.”

“Let me up, Chase.” He wanted it to come out sounding like a command, but it sounded more
like a squealing plea. He hated Chase for it.

Chase’s smile became a grin. “Say ‘please,’ Cyrus.”

“I’m chokin’! Please.”

Chase let him go and went to the door and opened it. “Now get the hell out of here. I don’t
want to see you again until I’m ready to discuss Wolf. In the meantime, leave Corey alone.” Chase
returned to his seat behind the desk. “Shut the door on your way out.”

Cyrus was in no position to talk shit or even try. He staggered his ass out of the office and to
the front door.

“Look at this! Did you take a tumble down the steps, Cyrus?” J.T. asked, laughing.

Cyrus glanced over at Bliss. She was in the middle of an interview, and whatever she was
saying, her mouth was a perfect circle. When she glanced over and saw Cyrus, she excused herself
and rushed over to him.