Pink Lips (11 page)

“How much money?” Choice asked.

“More than this.” Willow took the two wads of money out of her clothes and tossed it on the dashboard. “No offense, but I know I made more than you, and this shit,” she said as her manicured nail pointed at the money, “couldn't buy me a decent pair of shoes.”

“This y'all whip?” Choice asked.

“This is my whip.” Kail pointed at Willow. “This bitch got a Mercedes.”

“I drive a Cobalt.” Choice admired the interior of the car.

“A Cobalt.” Kail shook her head. “Listen, me and Willow a part of something. It's kind of like an organization, but we think of it as a sisterhood. Me and her are the only two members left and we need at least another person.”

“An organization.” Choice leaned back against the cushion.

“Yes, you can say that. We call ourselves The Pink Lip Bandits. We take request from clients for a high price and fulfill those requests with no questions, no feelings, and no complications,” Willow said.

“What kind of requests?”

“Murder, sex, robbery,” Kail replied, facing forward, checking the mirrors and their surroundings. “If the money is right, we will do anything with a few twists.”

“And, I can get paid like this?” Choice asked.

“Paid?” Kail turned back around. “I guarantee you that the Cobalt
that you driving will be parked while your ass flosses around the city driving in a luxury car that you bought in cash.”

“I'm in.” Choice leaned her head in the front seat. “So what do I have to do?”

“First,” Kail dug in her purse and pulled a golden container out, “let us see how you look with this powder-pink lipstick on.”

Willow sat in the front seat as her mind raced. She was finally three deep and her plan to resurrect The Pink Lip Bandits was now in effect. All she had to do was sit back and wait for the clients to reach out to her. And, after the little show she'd put on at the strip club, she knew word would get out about her.

E
velyn sat at her cherry desk that seemed almost superfluous, since there was little to no paperwork to be seen. A deep-burgundy leather desk chair, which reclined to an almost obscene angle, held her up as she got her thoughts together. There were two small table lamps—one near the door atop a wicker table that clashed with the rest of the room's executive motif, and another on the cherrywood desk with a long brass pull-cord. The absence of overhead light cast shadows into the corners, spilling under the desk and over top of the framed black-and-white pictures on the wall.

Evelyn blinked a few times as her long lashes went up and down.
Is that Rock's daughter?
she thought to herself. She could have sworn that she was dead.
Tony said she was dead
, she thought as she looked at the baby-blue walls that had pictures of unfamiliar people scattered throughout the façade.

“You wanted to see me?” Duke walked into the office.

“Yes, have a seat.” Evelyn opened her hand toward a chair.

Duke sat down with an uneasy feeling. He knew that Evelyn didn't like him. He'd known ever since he and Melee got together a few years back. If it wasn't for his loyal work for Rock, Evelyn would have disposed of him. And, since Melee was missing, he hoped Evelyn didn't suspect him.

“So you didn't know that woman?” Evelyn asked.

“No, tonight was my first time seeing her.”

“Interesting.” She tapped on the desk. “Do you think she resembled Melee?”

“A little bit.”

Evelyn put her hand over her mouth to stifle a scream; she could hear her heart hammering in her ear, echoing through her head. As she realized that she was holding her breath, she eased the air out of her lungs slowly, and then the reality hit her. She tried to prevent the bile rising in her throat as the putrid truth invaded her thoughts.

The thought of Anoki and Willow being alive made her sick to her stomach. It was like a bad dream that she couldn't wake up from. She had Rock exactly where she wanted him, and although their marriage wasn't perfect by any means, it worked for her and she didn't need anything or anyone to mess it up.

“I have a job for you.” She looked at Duke. “That girl that was just here; Willow is what Choice said her name was. I need you to get close to her.”

“Close to her fo' what?” Duke asked.

“It's none of your fucking business; just do it.” She waved him off. “Don't tell anyone about this. Keep your mouth closed and report to me on everything that she tells you. You hear me?”

“Yes, I hear you.”

“Evelyn, it's clear,” one of the bouncers said as he walked through the office door. “All the top levels of every building within a mile radius in every direction have been checked. There's no one waiting for you to leave.”

“Thank you.” Evelyn stood. “And, Duke, one more other thing,” she said as she wrapped her body-length trench coat around her,
“don't think I didn't notice that bitch you had in VIP with you. I don't give a fuck what you do when you're not around me, but the next time you disrespect the memory of my daughter in my place of business, you will be killed.”

Evelyn walked by the security, her long knee-high boots marking the floor as she made her way toward the back exit. She hit the alarm to her car as she got inside, immediately blasting the heater. She drove off and got on a main street to go see Vinny. She needed some advice on how to take care of the situation she was in and her Poppa always had the answers.

“Hello,” answered Tony through the phone.

“Can you explain to me why Willow just showed up at my club alive twenty-two years later?” she barked, holding the phone away from her ear and close to her mouth.

“That's not possible. Are you sure? How do you know it was her?” he asked.

“Because, it was like looking at Melee, and oh, did I forget to mention that her name was Willow?”

“I'll handle it.”

“No, you won't.” Evelyn pulled into a retirement home on the outskirts of town. “You would die trying, because I don't know how, but this little bitch is like her father when it comes to the streets. I had a mark on her, the next thing I know the shooter ended up dead, and I had a mark on me,” she screamed. “You hear me? A mark was on me.”

“I hear you.”

“I'll take care of her. You just focus on Rock never finding out,” Evelyn said as she parked her car.

“I'm on it,” Tony said. “Is Anoki alive, too?”

“I don't know yet.” Evelyn hung up the phone.

Evelyn got out of the car as she made her way to the entrance of Angel Arms, a retirement home for rich and famous people's loved ones. Evelyn knew that Rock had connections with every realtor in the state. There was no way that she could put anything in her name for Vinny without him knowing. Putting him in a place that had no interest to her husband was her only solution.

It was past visiting hours, but with the agreement she'd made with the director, the extra million a year that she was paying, Evelyn could visit Vinny whenever her heart desired. She walked up to the door as she gently buzzed it for entrance. She looked up at the security camera as the door made a swoosh sound and opened in front of her.

Evelyn's arms swayed, simultaneously, back and forth, as her thick legs seemed to be carrying her from point A to point B; mechanically in motion one leg thrust forward as the other tried, rhythmically, to catch up. She was in a rush to make it to his room. She had so much on her mind that she had to get out.

She made it to the door to her father's room. She knocked twice but no answer. Without waiting for a response, she opened the door and then closed it fast at what she saw. A frown covered her face as the door opened and a member of the staff rushed out while fixing her clothes.

“Nasty,” Evelyn said to the worker as she scurried down the hall.

“You should have knocked, baby,” Vinny said as Evelyn entered the room.

Vinny's face was serious with lines of worry, tears, happiness and joy outlining his cloudy dark eyes. Stubble crossed his chin and lip as if he hadn't shaved for lack of time or incentive, yet there seemed to be lightness about him as the corners of his mouth
lifted into a small smile. His short, light-gray hair played along his forehead as he stood up to greet his daughter.

“How you doing, Evelyn?” He kissed her on the cheek.

“I'm good, Poppa,” she said as she took a seat. “And, seeing as you're getting special treatment from the staff, I would say you're doing well, too.”

“I have to live, baby.” He sat on his bed. “I have needs and I shouldn't even be in this fucking place,” he said angrily.

“I know, Poppa, but if not here, then a funeral home.”

“To think that Vincent Mancini would be hiding from a coon.” He hung his head. “The shame my ancestors must be feeling.”

“Poppa, you can sulk later.” Evelyn set her purse down. “Rock's daughter is alive.”

“Melee's back?” he asked.

“Not Melee, she's still missing. I'm talking about Willow. You remember his wife and child, that you ordered the death of? Well, Willow just showed up at my club.”

“Why did you let her leave alive?” He reached on his nightstand and grabbed his Scotch and a cup.

“It was my life or hers,” Evelyn spat. “She brought someone with her to hide in the shadows that had a mark on me, so I didn't have a choice.”

“Sounds like someone who has Rock's genes,” he said as he poured a cup. “I don't like the bastard, but he thinks every move out before he goes into something. If this is his daughter, then she got it from her Poppa.”

“That's the problem. What if she knows about Rock?”

“You're the daughter of Vincent ‘Vinny' Mancini, the most notorious godfather to ever live. Don't ever show fear, especially to a monkey. And besides, what makes you so sure it's her?”

“She looked just like Melee.” She grabbed the bottle of Scotch from him, taking a shot to the head straight from the bottle.

“It probably is her,” Vinny admitted as he stood up. “I knew she was alive when she and Anoki showed up in Hawaii. I didn't tell you because I handled it. I told your Uncle Gino to get rid of her and he did.”

“So Willow lived?”

He nodded his head yes.

“That's not all,” he looked at Evelyn, “there's another daughter that Rock doesn't know about. When Anoki was shot, she was pregnant, and when she was saved, so was the baby she was carrying. Anoki's sister, Mahina, who is the woman your Uncle Gino married, raised them and they have been a part of The Pink Lip Bandits ever since.”

“So not only do I have to deal with one of Rock's offspring, but two?” Evelyn held her hands up above her head. “What the fuck am I going to do? These girls were a part of an organization that killed for a living. They know the game.”

“Evelyn,” Vinny raised his voice, “no matter what your last name is now, you have Mancini blood through your veins. Take care of those two fast, because if you don't, it will be trouble for you down the line. Trust me.”

“Can Uncle Gino give you some information on them?” she asked, walking toward the door.

“He could if he wasn't dead.” He took a sip of his liquor.

“Dead?”

“Gino, Mahina, and twenty others were killed at their wedding reception. They were shot in the middle of the event and no one knew until it was almost over.”

“Silencers,” Evelyn whispered to herself. “Wait; was Melee one of the bodies they found?”

“No, I've already checked. All of the girls that died were wearing pink lipstick and none of them were her.”

“So they killed everyone associated with the organization and moved here to Philly? But, for what?”

“Whatever it is, they want it bad.” Vinny poured another round of Scotch.

“I'll talk to you later,” Evelyn said, rushing out of the room and pulling out her cell phone, her heels clicking loudly from her walking so fast and hard.

“Talvin,” she huffed into the phone as she paced down the long hallway to the exit. “I have a job for you, so be at the spot in thirty minutes.”

Evelyn got into her car and sped off leaving snow melted behind her from the exhaust. She had to end the reign of Willow and her sister before it started. She had to put them six feet under before she was the one in a casket. She only used Talvin's skills for extreme jobs, and now knowing their reputation, he was the perfect person to put a bullet in their heads.

W
illow glanced over at Kail and Choice; all three of their lips branded with pink lipstick. She gave them a sly smile as she carried her bags onto the escalator that led to the second level of the mall. They had been shopping all day to get Choice's style in line with their own and the task was more difficult than they'd expected.

“See, it's easy.” Kail smirked as they stepped off the escalator.

“Y'all spend crazy money on clothes,” Choice said, referring to the thousands she'd just witnessed them spend.

“You have to spend in order to look how you should look,” Willow said as they made their way into a shoe boutique. “Why should we have to shop at the dollar store when we can shop where the hoes who got real cash can shop?” She held up a six thousand-dollar shoe in Choice's face. “If you had a choice between a steak and a cheeseburger, what would you choose?”

“The steak,” Choice responded.

“Exactly, and with clothes that concept is even more enforced. No one wants clothes from a thrift store; they get that shit because they have to. Let us show you that you don't have to.” Kail grabbed the shoe and handed it to the sales associate. “Can I get these in a size…what size are you?” She looked at Choice.

“I'm a seven, but I didn't bring that kind of dough.”