I Can Touch the Bottom (11 page)

Rank pulled up in front of the place Mickey had been staying at. After blowing the horn twice, Mickey ran outside, jumped in the car, anxious to put in work. They both were more than angry the fool that'd murdered Devin was fucking with Leela's sister, of all people. Rank as well as Mickey dragged Ava's name and character through the mud to the fullest. Although she never hung with their crew on the regular, they felt like she betrayed both them and Devin. Now, armed with this information, it would only make good sense to be extra careful what they said around Leela. She might've called, giving them the 411 tonight, but it had taken her so long to do so. For now, they'd use her to get closer to getting at Stackz if tonight didn't go as planned.

Having a heads-up on Stackz's location, Mickey and Rank jointly agreed there would be no gunplay tonight unless absolutely necessary. The game plan on tap would be to simply get a closer look at their enemy. Rank and Mickey were far from real true players in the Detroit underworld. After Leela gave them a name to work with, Rank got in touch with a few people that knew a man, who knew a man. After several calls, the trap house workers spoke to someone that ran the streets and could officially put them up on who Stackz was and what he was about.

The information they received was deeper than they could ever imagine, and they regretted that Devin's brief attempt at having a “gangster moment” with Stackz had brought the devil himself knocking at their front door. However, having to answer the door on point and principle, they got their courage up. Discovering that Stackz was no slouch and the type of respect he'd garnered in Detroit, Mickey and Rank knew whenever they were to make a move on Stackz, they couldn't slip, stumble, or fall—or they'd suffer the same fate as Devin. Not fully physically at a hundred from their last battle with Stackz, both felt it would be all good to go to Detroit Live, because, after all, they were just going to smoke the nigga over tonight; not kill him.

Rank's adrenalin was in overdrive, having flashbacks of Devin taking his final breath as he watched, helplessly perched behind a car leaking from the head. His hands were sweaty, and his heart raced as he gripped up on the steering wheel. Sure, he'd found out Stackz was somewhat a boss of bosses, but he had no other choice but to clap back. It was the law of the streets; at least, in Detroit. Besides, he couldn't look at himself in the mirror if he didn't.

No question, Mickey was shook but tried to play it off as he held the passenger seat down. He'd already been shot by Stackz once and definitely didn't want to risk getting hit again; even grazed. Caught deep in his emotions, Mickey knew he was lucky to be alive. Low key, after getting word from the streets exactly who Devin's killer was, he really wanted no part of Stackz anymore. However, he wasn't going to leave Rank hanging, who seemed so gung ho to get revenge. Taking a pint of gin out of his pocket he'd been sipping on earlier, Mickey twisted off the cap. Hoping to ease the pain in his shoulder, he took a long, hard drink and swallowed a few pills. He nervously gagged, and his eyes teared up. Wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt, his liquid courage was in full effect. He then bravely grabbed his pistol out of his waistband, mumbling something about revenge as well. With his arm fresh out of the sling, the coward street soldier was ready for war.

In an attempt to hide the bloodstained bandage wrapped around his head, Rank threw on an Old English D knitted hat that was in the backseat of the car. Ready for whatever was gonna happen after whatever came next, the pair of would-be gangsters shared the rest of Mickey's gin. With murder on their minds and Tupac blasting through the speakers, they were on their way; destination: Detroit Live.

Stackz and Ava turned right off Jefferson Avenue. Making a quick left, then another right onto a side street, they were at the Detroit Live Nightclub. Immediately seeing the block was packed with cars bumper to bumper, Stackz started feeling himself. Instantly, he got a rush of excitement, knowing he'd be the talk of the club tonight, just as he always was. As he leaned over in the driver's seat, letting the crowd of potential partygoers jock not only him but the whip he was pushing, he fought back the urge to smile. Ava, on the other hand, was far from playing the cool role. Like a small kid in a candy store, her eyes bucked twice their normal size. Amazed so many cars were parked around the club and in the lots, she knew it was going to be at least a good hour or so before they could even think about getting inside, if at all.

“Damn, it's jumping around here! But, Stackz, look at the line to get in the club. You sure we should go here? We can go somewhere else. It really doesn't matter to me.”

“Line? What line?” he teased, looking at the front door of the popular club.

“Come on, now. I know you see all these people out here waiting to get in. It's crazy. There must be about a hundred folk, if not a little bit more.”

Stackz was amused at her innocence. It was apparent she either didn't know who he truly was or was good as hell at playing the role. Either way it went, he felt he had to set her straight. “Dig this here, baby girl. Bosses don't do lines. Me and mines VIP everywhere we roll.”

“For real?” Ava replied not knowing what else to say to his gangster-inspired impromptu speech.

“Yeah, Ava, for real.” Stackz reached over, grabbing her hand. “If you didn't know before, you're gonna find out tonight how I get down.”

Stackz brought the triple-black Range Rover to a complete stop directly in front of the club entrance. Without hesitation, he pulled out his cell phone. Scrolling through his long list of contacts, he finally hit the talk button. As he watched his boy work the crowd of clubgoers, he couldn't help but laugh out loud at seeing some random nigga get tossed on his head.

“What's so funny?” Ava asked, staring out the passenger window at a flock of hating-ass females. “Do you know these thirst traps?”

“Huh?” his attention was brought back to her.

“These bitches over here acting like they lost something up in this truck.” Ava was starting to show her true hood colors as her face frowned up, remembering what Bridget had claimed the rumor was around town about Stackz.

He glanced out the window to see what and who Ava was talking about and laughed, “Oh, them birds! Hell naw, I don't know them. And even if I did, they can't hold a candle to you. They're not even in your league. Matter of fact, can't no woman stand in you light; not tonight!”

Ava calmed down and eased back in the passenger seat. As far as she was concerned, no female had to like her. She knew the world didn't work like that. However, they'd definitely respect her. That much went without saying.

Stackz held the phone to his ear and watched his boy snatch another dude out of line with one hand, then sling him across the concrete. After he slid a few feet, security was on him, beating his ass. They dragged him up the street and left him there, coming back to their post. Stackz's boy Maestro, the head of security, barked at the crowed asking them if anyone else would like to join dude up the block. No one said a word, acting like they hadn't seen a thing.

Maestro finally pulled his cell out of his pocket answering it. He and Stackz talked shit back and forth about the dude that just got his ass stomped. He told Stackz to park his Range Rover right in front of the club in the no-parking zone, assuring him not a soul would look at his whip wrong without paying with their life. Stackz boss maneuvered into his parking spot as Ava looked on, impressed, to say the least.

Stackz turned off the truck and got out, straightening his clothes. People in line stared, whispered, and some wondered who he was that made him so special to get top billing parking. Stackz came around to the passenger-side door, opening it. Appreciative to be in her company, he took Ava's hand, helping her down out of the luxury model SUV.

As they walked hand in hand toward the entrance, Ava overheard a girl ask her friend if that wasn't that Stackz. She quickly replied it was and wondered who that bitch was that was with him.

“I swear, these thirst traps are out tonight with no shame at all. Your groupies might need to fall the fuck back, because I won't be disrespected by none of your thots,” Ava warned with a sassy stern tone of voice.

Stackz would be lying to himself if he said he was not thoroughly amused by Ava's spunk. “Calm down, bae, they ain't nobody. Who I'm with?”

* * *

Gee and T. L. called out Stackz's name. They were with three guys and two females that were on the payroll. Once the entire crew met up with Stackz and Ava, they were eager to get inside the club and get the night started. Stackz grabbed Ava back by the hand, leading the way inside.

Once inside of Detroit Live, not one of them was searched, not one of them paid. To Ava's dismay, the Middle Eastern owner of the club came to personally greet Stackz and his entourage with open arms, like they were family. Stackz had two VIP booths and plenty of black bottles were already set up for him and his people.

The music was banging hard, and the club was slapping. The dance floor was full, and it was packed up at the bar for people trying to get drinks. As they made their way to the VIP section, all eyes in the club were focused on them.

A red velvet rope separated VIP from the rest of the club. Two huge bouncers stood tall, working the rope. Recognizing Stackz, the red rope was immediately lifted, allowing him, Ava, and his entourage to walk through without question. Once everyone got settled in the booths, they began popping bottles and tossing back shots.

Hours passed. Everyone was feeling nice from the drinks and the cookie kush blunts that floated around the booths nonstop. Stackz and Ava were in their own world and had been all night. They danced together in VIP and whispered back and forth in each other's ear, talking freaky. Stackz promised a tipsy Ava that later on in the room, he was going to spend until daybreak “touching the bottom.” Hearing him say shit like that was making her pussy wet and anxious to see if the big-dick rumors about him were indeed true. As the perfect night was drawing to a close, the bartender announced last call. Ordering one more bottle for the road, they all had a final drink before heading toward the exit of the club.

Outside the club, the streets were packed with people going to their cars, trying to get to their next destination, either the casino or the nearest White Castle. Not wanting to go home alone, guys were getting at females in the parking lot, trying to get some intoxicated pussy to warm their beds until daybreak. Across the street from Detroit Live, Rank and Mickey were parked, posted, with murder on their unsettled minds. The revenge-driven pair had been sitting there all night smoking blunts and popping E-pills, waiting in hopes to see Stackz, Devin's killer. With their guns in their laps, Rank asked Mickey if he was ready. The answer was evident as Mickey slow stoked his pistol as if it was a cat in heat.

Both high and focused on revenge, the effects of the pills had them clearly not thinking right. The original plan was just to go, sit, and watch Stackz; see how he moved and what he was truly about. Yet, no sooner than Rank saw their mark exit the club with Ava on his arm, he threw the plan out the window, instantly becoming enraged. Hurriedly, he snatched his gun off his lap, pulling back the top, putting a bullet in the chamber. Mickey followed suit doing the same. Ready to make some noise and the news, they watched Stackz and Ava talk to a small crew of several guys as they stood outside of what had to be Stackz's Range Rover.

“Look at this bullshit right here! This bitch fucking this nigga who murked our boy. Really, Ava? She wouldn't give me the pussy, but
him?
That's messed up.” Mickey rambled on out loud as if Ava could really hear him from across the street inside of the car.

People that were in the parking lot and on the side street were looking at the car Rank and Mickey were sitting in. Not used to going on missions without Devin there to instruct them on not being seen or heard, they were drawing way too much attention to themselves. T. L. noticed people looking in the direction of their car and got on high alert. Peering through the driver's side window, T. L. easily recognized Rank and Mickey from his own low-key, much-better-executed stakeout.

Easing over to Stackz's side, T. L. put him up on game, urging him to break out and leave the rest to him and the fellas. Ava peeped the mood change in Stackz, as well as everyone else standing around them. Asking if everything was good, Stackz assured her it was. He had no intentions to alarm her. He'd waited weeks to get the perfect pussy he'd seen in the hallway and wasn't going to let having to kill two nothing-ass niggas get in his way.

“Naw, it's all good this way. Just some loose-end business on the floor that needs to be picked up. Let's just head out and go get our room for the night. You hungry? You want something to eat?” Stackz played it off, not yet knowing where Ava's loyalties lay.

Making sure his date got in the truck, Stackz, being the gentleman that he was, shut Ava's door for her. After saying a few more things to T. L. and Gee, he jumped in the truck as well. Busting a quick suicide U-turn in the middle of traffic, they hit a side street, and then made a right turn toward Jefferson Avenue. When he and Ava came to a red light, they heard a bevy of gunshots in the same direction they'd just left.

Ava looked back over her shoulder, down the block, trying to see what she could. “Oh my God, Stackz, I know you heard them gunshots.”

“Shawty, you safe; we both good, and that's all that matters right about now,” Stackz replied, mashing the gas damn near to the floor. That gangster shit drama only made his dick rock hard. Headed to grab them a room for the night, he intended on giving Ava some serious pipe that would change her life.

* * *

It was pure pandemonium outside of Detroit Live as soon as Stackz and Ava were well out of harm's way. Rank and Mickey instantaneously drew all eyes on them. Almost to their demise, they let emotions get in the way of sticking to the game plan and got caught slipping in their feelings. Only if they could have controlled their high, then they could have seen who and what they wanted to and went on about their way. They could have holed up somewhere in a spot and made some plan of attack on their newly sworn enemy: Stackz. But that was too much like right, and they were under direct attack.

This was the moment T. L. had been waiting for and had no intentions of holding them up. Not once caring about the multitudes of soon-to-be witnesses that were innocently standing around, he reached back in the small of his waist, pulling out his twin sisters. With two nine's full-arm extended, T. L. let off round after round, gunning at his targets with intent to commit murder. Gee pulled out his gun and joined in on the assault.

As the ear-shattering sound of gunshots rang out, everyone start to scream, scatter, and try to take cover. Rank and Mickey wanted to get out of Dodge as well. They attempted to fire back but knew they had no win. Rank knew they weren't going to live if he didn't get them the fuck on. Trying to hold them off, he emptied his clip and dropped his gun down on the floorboard. He held his head tucked down, praying for Allah to help him get Mickey and himself home safely. Rank fumbled with the key trying to put it in the ignition. With the car taking hit after hit, it rocked from side to side . . . ironically, the same way they'd done Stackz's beloved Jeep a few weeks back.

Blessed Rank finally turned the ignition over, starting the car. Under fire, he stayed low while yanking down the gear into drive. Slamming his foot down on the gas pedal as far as it would go, he recklessly hard whipped the steering wheel to the far right. “Stay down, my nigga,” he yelled to Mickey. “We outta this bitch!”

Sideswiping a few parked cars on his getaway bid, he struck a terrified female trying to get to her car; collateral damage. As Rank cut the corner, he ran into another parked car with some nosey-ass dudes in it watching everything go down as they smoked a blunt. After hitting them, he almost lost control, but straightened up and got the fuck on.

Not even attempting to shoot back, Mickey was cowardly balled up halfway between the seat and the floorboard. He'd already pissed on himself after the first round hit the back door and had zoned out. “Get us the hell out of here, man; drive, drive, oh shit! Drive!” Shaking, he kept thinking about the night he'd taken the two slugs in the shoulder and knew he didn't want to feel that burning pain sensation now, again, or ever.

Rank drove the car off the main streets in case the police had a description of the car they were in. Still rattled, they gathered themselves together. After making sure they weren't hit, Mickey and Rank went back and forth, trying to figure out how Stackz's people knew who they were. They knew Ava didn't have an opportunity to see them from where she was standing, and Leela was on their team. It didn't take them long to both come to the same conclusion. At this point in the deadly game, it really didn't matter how they knew who they were. Now it was all about who kills who first.

Back at the club, Gee and T .L. told the bouncer as much as he needed to know so he could cover his ass when the police showed up. Jumping in their rides before the fingers started being pointed out to the law, Gee and T. L. agreed to get together by noon the next day to talk about how to handle these clowns that were so brave to try to lay on them and Stackz tonight.