Rapture (13 page)

~
12
~

Rush

On the way from breakfast with Alika, I was in my head trying to create a plan of action. I needed to tackle the situation at hand, but I also needed to make sure that all my ducks were in a row so that I wouldn’t be acting on impulse—something I could easily see myself doing. Especially when it has to do with something I hold near and dear to my heart. And especially when it’s something that I singlehandedly brought to fruition. One thing I hated was when somebody put their energy into some successful shit, but then had vultures circling and wanting to come in and wreck havoc. I wasn’t having any of that. So my goal was to take “proper” steps which were a bit prissy for me, but that were a necessity. I just hoped that I could pull it off. It can sometimes be difficult to do things properly when you’re looking in the face of the person, or persons at the root of all the evil. And if I had it my way, I’d be looking into those faces very soon.

In the middle of my thoughts, I guffawed just a little. Alika was something else. I thought when she called me for breakfast that she had summoned the courage to pour out all her inner thoughts. But I watched her chicken out…
again
. But that was on her. I wasn’t going to give her an easy way out because I wanted to see her take charge. She would need that strong personality dealing with me, and I didn’t doubt for one second that it was there. She knew I wanted her, and I knew that she wanted me, but the next move absolutely had to be hers, for even as much as I was feeling her, I had big fish to fry in my life, and pursuing love wasn’t on the agenda.

I had my phone in my hand about to call out as I sprinted across the lawn and into the back of the house. After punching in the first three numbers, the phone rang in my hand with Quinton on the caller ID. “Hey,” he greeted, as soon as the phone was to my ear. “You got a few to talk? I was gonna drive up if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, sure. I was just on my way inside so I’ll see you when you get here.”

About ten minutes later, I was opening the front door to allow Quinton inside. We gave each other our normal bro hug, and then I walked ahead of him into my living room.

“What brings you to these parts, man?” I asked him. “Not that you’re not always welcome, but you know.”

“I got you,” he smiled, looking around. “I can’t ever get over how fat this damn crib is, man! You need to fill this thing up with something pretty…and I ain’t talkin’ about furniture. I’m talking about something of the female persuasion.”

“One day we’ll see. Right now, life is just going at top speed, man.”

“I feel that. But that’s because yo’ ass is a control freak! You need to own that shit!” Quinton roared with hearty laughter. “Own
that
shit and you’ll be on your way to healing, my dude.”

“You got jokes I see. If that’s what you brought your ass over here for, I think you know the way out,” I kidded.

Quinton got up and walked over to the bar to pour him a half glass of Whiskey, then came back and sat a coaster on top of the coffee table’s glass top. “Alright, so I think we might have a problem.”

“What kind of problem? With that Curtis dude?”

“Nah, him we won’t ever have to deal with again.”

I shook my head knowingly. Although Quinton hadn’t given me the details, we’d been in that position before, so I already knew. “Okay, so what is it then?”

“I got it on good word that somebody is dealing out of Chaos. Not dealing weight or anything like that. From what I gathered it’s like enhancement drugs and shit.”

“Yeah, I heard something like that recently. I was actually about to call Oscar to have him do some background on staff. But let me show you something real quick.” I ran down the hall to my office and came back to produce the fax that my father had sent to me. “This is courtesy of the elder Cambridge,” I remarked sarcastically.

“
Oh shit
.
Don’t tell me that he knows
?”

“Yep, he brought it up at dinner on Wednesday night, but it was all cryptic and shit. He just said something about getting to the bottom of it, but never told me exactly what the fuck he was talking about until I asked him specifically.”

“Man, I’ll never understand his ass. I guess if you’re not playing his All-American sport, he has zero point five fucks to give. But you’re a better man than me because I think I would’ve knocked him on his ass years ago—father or not. Fuck that. You don’t respect me, I don’t owe you shit! Real talk.”

“Tell me about it. The only reason I give that dude even the smidgen of respect he gets is because of my sister. I love that girl past death, so you know—”

“I get it, man. She’s the only family you have.”

“Right.”

Quinton spent a few minutes glancing over the two-pager, and then handed it back to me. “This is a lot packed into two damn pages. The shit that’s on here is enough to shut Chaos down,” he acknowledged. “What the fuck? I’m seeing shit like tranquilizers, enhancers, and
suspected human trafficking
! Somebody’s running hoes out of your club? Hell no! That’s just a fraction of what I heard about! And then that little piece toward the end of the report about, ‘…
owners are responsible for everything that happens on their premises
…!’ this shit has me pissed off. At the same time, though, I guess it’s good that the old man got involved.”

“Yeah, I’m thankful for that. But I’ll offer him a ‘thank you’, after I get this shit cleared up. His threat to back off didn’t sit well with me—knowing, that my ass was all the fucking way on the line. That’s bullshit. I wanna crack the whip on this shit like yesterday, and on my own. I’ll be damned if I let somebody tear down what the fuck I built. That shit ain’t happening. That’s like buying a brand new car then having all your seats fucked up and having to get rid of the car because it’s all battered and shit, but you didn’t do it!”

Quinton looked at me with a blank stare then burst out laughing loudly. “Dude! The fuck kind of analogy was that?!”

“I know, right?” I exclaimed, while laughing at myself. “Whatever, you get the point. Bottom line is that nobody is gonna tear down what I worked so hard for. Ain’t gonna happen. They’ll see complete darkness before that happens.”

“You
know
I know. Whatever you need from me, you know I’m there.”

“Yep, no doubt about that, Q. I know you are. I do think we need to get on some security for both spots. I should’ve had that some time ago. But yeah, we have to get that going.”

“I’m already on it.”

~
13
~

Bart

Monday, October 6, 2015

“Hey Bart, long time no see,” Jacob chuckled.

Bart gave him a smug look that told the entire story of his feelings.

“Aww, come on, man. It’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be. Come on in and have a seat,” Jacob offered, opening the door to his 34
th
floor condo in San Francisco’s Bay district.

Bart walked inside and stood near a paneling near the entrance of the large, open floor space. “What am I here for, Jacob?” Bart asked, impatiently. “What couldn’t be said over the telephone?”

“Just sit down for a bit, Bart. It’s cool. The sooner you sit down, the quicker we can get to business, and the quicker you can be on your way. Still hating me, but on your way nonetheless.”

Bart walked further into the room and took an uncomfortable seat, and a few seconds later, a woman emerged from the somewhere with a glass of water and handed it to Bart. “I’m good. But thanks,” he said, rejecting the offer.

“Damn, Bart. You’re uptight as fuck. It’s a far cry from when you had your dick up in Bianca the other night. I mean, damn, you were all into it.”

Bart stood from where he sat, and headed back towards the entrance in a huff. “Fuck this, Jacob. I didn’t come here for this shit.”

Jacob leaned back and crossed one leg over the other, then smugly stated, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Bart. In fact,
if I were you
, I’d bring my ass back and sit the fuck down.”

Bart hovered in his spot for a few long seconds before complying with the demand. He made his way to the place he had recently vacated. If ever there were a time that Bart thought about choking the life out of someone, it was in that moment. As he looked at Jacob and thought back to the four of them: him, Jacob, Gavin, and Rush, growing up together, getting into trouble together, running trains on bitches together, he felt complete and utter disdain.

“ThattaBoy, Bart.”

Bart wanted to yell,
I got your motherfucking boy
! But, instead he decided to remain completely mute while this fucker talked. And then he would be out the door.

“So, this megaclub that Rush is about to open is a good place for business. I’ve already gotten a good amount of business from the sports bar, but now with Temptation, this could mean real
big
business and that’s what I’m counting on.”

“What does that shit even mean?” Bart asked, abandoning his quiet stance. “…that you’ve ‘
gotten a good amount of business from the sports bar’
?”

“It’s just what it sounds like, Bart. You guys have had really happy customers
because of me
. Have you noticed that more women frequent the bar now?
Beautiful women
, at that? Since when have you known as many women to be around ‘sports’? Besides the groupie, thirst bucket whores trying to come up at NBA All-Star weekend? You guys got a lot going on there. You have the basic guys that come through who are living paycheck to paycheck and have a fat ass wife at home that they’re trying to get away from for the night. You have the elite traveling businessman type who wants a good time while he’s in town. I mean, I could go on. Y’all have a plethora of revenue generators in that bitch. And my girls help with that. Pay attention to Friday nights. Pay attention to how packed the house is. Dumb asses get paid on Fridays and come to Chaos to get their pick of the litter to fuck on for a few hours so they can go home and tolerate subpar women.”

“I haven’t seen you around Chaos. Not until the other night, so how do you know—”

“Right. You haven’t seen me. I’ve had someone there in my place to make sure the girls are doing what they need to be doing. I’m sure you’ve seen him. You might’ve even met him, his name is Curtis. He’ll probably be in contact leading up to Friday.”

“Oh my God…” Bart gasped. “You sonofabitch.”

“
I’m
the sonofabitch? Hmmm, no harsher words have ever been spoken, my friend. Espe—”

“We’re
not
friends, Jacob,” Bart spat.

Jacob grinned before continuing. “…
Especially
from a man who’s buck wild beatin’ out pussy of women whose names ain’t Jillian. I’ve actually been very good to you. You’ve been getting top of the line pussy that elites pay $5,000 a night for. Ask Bianca where she lives the next times she’s lubing your albino stick. Ask her what she makes in a night and why she can make your ass cry out like a newborn baby fresh out the womb.
Ask her
.
I dare you
. That pussy is in high demand, but I make sure that every time you’re around, she gets a call to drop whatever…or whoever she’s doing.”

“
Man
,” Bart sighed, rubbing his hand across the top of his head.

“
You’re welcome
, Bart.”

Bart was in shock, and just wanted the entire meeting to be over with so he could get as far away from Jacob as he could. He felt bile creeping into his throat, as if he would chuck any minute. He couldn’t believe what was happening, and he had a feeling that it was only going to get worse from there.

“So, what’s this all about, Jacob? What is it that you want? You’re running a whore house out of Rush’s sports bar. Don’t you think you’ve done enough to that man over the years? Then to take him through
this
shit? Fuck!” Bart exclaimed, agitated. “I mean, and it’s premeditated. What the fuck did you do, sit back for years and orchestrate a plot? What the fuck is this? What the fuck did either of us ever do to you?”

“Rush didn’t do shit but think he’s better than every fuckin’ body. And that’s enough.”

“Better how? You’re really tripping. He’s the reason that you were even able to make it out of the hood and onto the field.”

“Yeah, and we see how that worked out, don’t we?”

“Oh! I get it! So you not knowing how to leave the hood behind is Rush’s fault, somehow? Get the fuck out of here, Jacob. You can’t be serious.”

“I don’t fault him at all for that shit. I own what I did. But he’s got the space, for my opportunity. This is business, Bart. It’s not personal at all.”

“How can you say that shit?!” Bart yelled. “How the fuck can you say that this shit isn’t personal? We grew up together, man! We know each other’s families and shit!”

“Calm down, Bart.”

Bart gave him a menacing look. “Yeah, okay. I’ll be calm,” he complied. He was angry at what was happening and that he had even placed himself into a position to be sitting in Jacob’s presence.

“So, the purpose of all this is simple and easy. I just have a single favor, and it’s the only one I need. I need to use the club for a huge transaction that I have coming up—a drop, if you will.”

“
Ohhh
, hell no,” Bart said, shaking his head adamantly, left to right. “That’s an automatic no, man. Why the fuck can’t you go rent out a hall or some shit like that? There’s space all over the damn Bay Area for something like that. Or have that shit right here!”

“I want Temptation. The grand opening isn’t even happening for another few days. I already made the plans. It can be during regular club time, and it won’t even appear out of the norm. I just figure you can help with it since you’re already low-level doing it anyway…” he stated, cryptically.

“Huh?”

Jacob leaned forward, looked Bart directly in the eyes, and crossed his arms over his lap. “You heard me. I said since you’re already doing it.”

Bart shifted in his seat and simultaneously shifted his eyes as he did so. “I’m not sure what you—”

“Stop fuckin’ around, Bart. Those enhancement drugs you’ve been giving out like Halloween candy. You’ve been giving it to some of the customers who are lacking in certain areas of the bedroom, some of the new recruits. You’re a bad boy, Bart. Don’t deny it. You’ve been on my radar. Because see, I was wondering why the fuck Rush’s business consultant, or whatever you are…spends so much time hanging,” he shot, using air quotes, “…when he should be somewhere crunching numbers. So, it didn’t take a rocket scientist. Get off your fuckin’ high horse, Bart.” Then he sat back again, smiling. “What would Rush do if he found out that his perfect little business manager is managing his very own business inside of his club? We both know Rush’s temper so I doubt you’d make it out alive, but if that’s a risk you wanna take, just turn me down,” he said, smugly.

“I can’t believe this shit is happening…” Bart whispered under his breath.

“You can’t believe what? That you just got knocked off your fuckin’ high horse? You just accused me of knowing him since we were kids and all that self-righteous bullshit. You’ve been doing it for months. I just need to do a single drop and I need you to be there when I do it so that things don’t look suspect, given that Rush and I haven’t spoken in so long.”

“This shit is really happening, man,” Bart said, talking to himself. “I can’t believe this…”

“You can always turn me down, Bart. Now’s your chance.”

What the fuck have I gotten myself into
? Bart thought to himself as he left Jacob’s place. He knew that he couldn’t turn Jacob down, or there would be consequences
and
repercussions. He also knew enough about Jacob to know that although he said it was only one favor, there would definitely be more.