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BOOK: The Syndicate
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Once the video was done, we all simply stared at one another. The silence in the room was deafening.
“So this isn't a joke?” Cory asked, still in obvious disbelief.
“This is legit, nephew,” Uncle Snap answered. “It's not a joke. I'm sorry you all had to find out this way, but here it is now. Out in the open. So the question remains, Javon, are you in or are you out? Without you, this shit is doomed.”
Javon didn't say one word. He stood and left the room. I knew he was on his way back to the main house. I rushed behind him. I had no idea what to say to him. The revelation that had just been laid at our feet was mind blowing.
“Javon, wait,” I said as he walked up the final stair to come back out through the fireplace.
He turned and took my hand to help me out then glanced down at me.
“What's on your mind?” I asked him.
“Nothing,” he answered.
“You're lying, Javon. After all of that you just heard, you expect me to believe nothing is on your mind?” I asked.
He looked away and then shook his head. “Am I the only one put off by all of this? I mean, our whole lives was a lie, a big-ass façade. We put in all this work, going to school, getting upstanding jobs in the community, trying to make Mama proud and for what? For what, Nelle? Just so we could become the very things she always told us not to become? Fucking statistics? This life only leads to two places, Nelle, jail or hell, and I for one am not going to be the one to take us there,” he said with finality them stormed away.
He was headed upstairs to his old room. I fell in line behind him. The room still looked the same. The full-sized bed was made up with a black comforter. Falcons memorabilia was strategically placed about. That was about it. He had always been a simple kind of man when it came to things like this.
“Even so, baby, you can't just walk away like that. The rest of them are waiting for you to say something. They're waiting for you to tell them where to go, what to do. They look up to you and you know that,” I said, resting a calming hand on his back. “I . . . I don't know what to think right now. We need time to process this, I know, but not if somebody is going to be trying to kill us. Not if Uncle Snap's life is in danger. We have to do something.”
“So what you saying, Nelle? You want me to leave behind everything I worked so hard to become, and become the leader of a drug syndicate? A crime family is what you want us to become? Cocaine cowboys? Here we are thinking Mama was a saint and she was really the black version of Griselda Blanco. I can't”—he stopped then took a deep inhale like it pained him to breathe—“I can't willingly lead my family into this lifestyle.”
I moved to the front of him then kissed his lips.
He placed his hands on my hips and pulled me closer. “We already lost Mama,” he said, lips brushing against mine. “I can't afford to lose any more of you. We'll figure something out but, right now, I can't make this decision, baby. I can't.”
* * *
Over the next few days, the tension was thick around the family. Javon and Cory were on everyone's ass to get up and get to classes or to work. My mind was all over the place. I honestly didn't know what to do or what to think. I'd been searching Mama's room left and right trying to find anything else that would tell us who she really was. Melissa estimated that there was close to $10 million in the underground bunker alone. She and Inez traveled to banks all over Georgia with Lamont in tow, opening deposit boxes and getting a tally on things. Naveen had gone through the house and found four more hidden entries and exits.
Cory had jumped head first into his legal studies. If shit so happened that we were going to become this conglomerate Mama wanted, Cory said he needed to know the ins and outs of the criminal justice system more so now than before. Jojo pretty much kept to himself or he was in the basement doing whatever it was he did in his chemistry lab Mama had made for him down there. He and Naveen weren't fighting, but they kept their distance from one another.
While Javon and I worked for Reed and Haswell, a top-level financial advising firm, my mind was on the many times Mama had taken me to the gun range. There I was thinking she was training me to defend myself and in the end she was training me for something more ominous. Uncle Snap presented us with pictures of the people of the Syndicate. Twelve of them including Mama were all gathered around a long, rectangular table like the twelve tribes of Israel. Mama was the only black woman in the crowd. Two white women and an Asian woman were the only women besides Mama. I had to admit that Mama's power was impressive.
Three days turned into four then four into seven and Javon still hadn't said a word about what Mama had wanted him to do. Uncle Snap didn't push him either. He said he would let nature take its course. I had no idea what he meant by that at the time, but we soon found out.
Another Saturday had rolled around and Javon and I were coming out of Scales 925 after having lunch when a black Hummer rolled up and stopped us from crossing the street. Instinctively Javon pushed me behind him and I stuck my hand inside of my purse. The last week had been tense. We had been walking on eggshells the whole time, always looking over our shoulders to make sure nothing popped off.
When the door opened and three Italian men dressed in black suits stepped out, my heart rate sped up. “Baby,” I said low so only Javon could hear me. I had to admit, I got scared. I wasn't used to this kind of fanfare.
“Shh,” he said without turning to look at me. “I got you,” was all he said to me.
“You're Javon McPhearson, Claudette's oldest son, right?” one of the men asked.
“Who wants to know?” Javon asked off the cuff.
The three men fanned out as if they were about to attack us. People looked on, silently wondering what was going on, but went about their day while casting curious glances over their shoulders. The weather was the nicest it had been in days. The sun was shining, birds were chirping. The smell of grilled steak and other spices filled the air around us. I clicked the safety off the gun in my purse and gripped my gun.
“We don't want any trouble, but the Syndicate would like to meet with you,” the man answered.
Javon stiffened, his head tilted to the side as if he was in deep thought. I hadn't told any of the others, but the past few days with Javon had been hell. He was moody. He snapped at me if I said the wrong things and God forbid I mention Mama or the Syndicate at all. He wasn't trying to hear it. The man I loved was all fucked up. One night he didn't come to my place like he said he would and I got a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. When I asked him where he had been and why he didn't show up like he said he would, his only answer was that he needed some space. I said nothing. I respected it and left him to his own devices. Javon was a ticking time bomb and I knew once he was detonated we were all in trouble.
“Let me get this straight,” he said as he set his briefcase down then opened his suit jacket.
I saw one of the men push the ends of his blazer back revealing that he was armed. I was sure the other men were as well. While I was confident I could take them all out, I didn't want to do it in public. “Javon, baby,” I said, trying to get his attention.
“These people in the Syndicate sent for me like what? I'm supposed to be at their beck and call?” he asked, ignoring me.
“You can come peacefully or we can force you to come,” the man responded.
“Is that right?” Javon asked then chuckled.
I prayed to Mama and God that none of those men was foolish enough to try to force Javon to do anything. Once turned up, there was no turning him down. The next few seconds were a blur. Shit happened so fast I didn't really have time to blink or think. To the left of me, I saw Lamont rush in. One punch to one of the men's jaw sent him to the concrete. He was out cold. While the other two were distracted and going for their weapons, Cory came around the side of the Hummer, snatched the other man's gun away then whacked him across the head with it. That left the leader who had been talking. He drew his gun on Javon and I aimed mine at the man's head so quickly, my nervousness and fear no longer mattered.
“She doesn't miss,” Javon warned the man.
“I said we didn't come for trouble,” the man spat, face reddened.
“That's too damn bad. You tell me you're going to force me to do anything and it's trouble. You run up on me and my girl while coming from lunch and that's looking for trouble. Tell those motherfuckers don't send for me unless I call first,” Javon snapped.
He picked up his briefcase then swung it, knocking the man back up against the Hummer. Blood flew from the man's mouth and nose as he went down. Javon then glanced around. I had no idea where Lamont or Cory had come from, but I was damn glad they were there.
“Put it away, baby,” Javon told me.
I knew he was talking about my gun. I slipped it back in my purse and followed my brothers as we made haste to get the hell out of dodge.
Chapter 4
Javon
It took years of dedicated work for my MBA while taking a dual degree route. I graduated not only on time but a year early from the University of Georgia's School of Business at the top of my class. On top of that, I ended up securing a job with Atlanta's top financial advising firm, Reed and Haswell, as an information security analyst, and now it was boiling down to not meaning a gotdamn thing? It had taken everything I'd worked for to get out of the streets and gutter and to not be looked at as that foster kid; to now have it all thrown by the wayside thanks to the truth behind who my foster mother was?
Silently watching the road in front of me as I drove Shanelle and me away from the supposed Syndicate, I was heavy in my thoughts as I chuckled to myself.
On top of that, my professional business reputation is now cast aside in public thanks to being approached by motherfuckers who shouldn't even know who the hell I am? What fuck shit is this huh?
Yeah, suffice to say I was pissed the hell off.
Since learning the truth about Claudette, the disrespect seemed to only have gotten worse and piled up on my shoulders. All around me, everyone watched me waiting for me to tell them what to do and where to go in all of this bullshit. The audacity to accept stepping into a criminal world was in everyone's eyes except for my own. How could my family be so brainwashed to even entertain the thought of being a part of some illegal shit? For the life of me I couldn't understand it. Which was why these past weeks had been the hardest on me.
Now, the pressure had been amplified and I was being forced to meet with people I'd rather have nothing to do with or entertain by speaking with them. However, with Cory and Lamont appearing like smoke in the wind and going toe to toe, along with Shanelle pulling out her gun, I had more shit on my lap to deal with now. Gripping the steering wheel to the point of my knuckles turning white, I realized that Shanelle had been talking to me.
When she touched my hand, her words seemed to seep through the roaring of my thoughts. “Javon, slow the car down, baby,” she urged.
My jaw clenched tight, the nerve in it bounced, and I whipped the car off the highway until pulling into an empty parking lot. “What the fuck was that?” I shouted turning in the driver's seat.
“Baby, what was what? They were about to hurt you, and us,” Shanelle said wide-eyed leaning back from me while looking around. I guess it was to make sure we hadn't been trailed. I knew we hadn't though; that was my own paranoia seeping through my anger. From the corner of my eye, I saw Cory's ride reach us and park beside us. Both of my brothers climbed out and I followed suit, glaring.
“So we all don't know what it is to be normal anymore? You all are now eager to live a criminal life and brandishing guns and shit like bustin' heads open is an everyday thing for us?” I shouted at my family.
“Von, we were covering your back,” I heard Lamont say as he pushed back his hoodie.
Wide-eyed, I shook my head at his tone. “Nigga, you're only eighteen years old! You graduated high school last fucking year and your life has been about fighting in the ring. Now you're good on turning into the real Rick Ross? Monty, you should be at the gym right now working on getting that belt!”
I was so angry that I pulled off my jacket. I stepped to the car seeing Shanelle exit it and then threw it in my black Lexus. Turning back to everyone, I glared at my family and pushed up the sleeves of my black button-down shirt just to try to rein in my devastation. Yeah, I was wrecked. Broken by what just went down and I didn't have the words to communicate that I was legit scared for my family at this point.
My brother dropped his head as I stared at him with my arm out pointing. I could see Lamont was conflicted too but he didn't back down.
“I wasn't about to let no nigga take you out, not by just sitting there doing nothing when I know that I can fight. Yeah, I graduated last year but I've always been in the streets, you know that. Handling those bitches wasn't nothing for me because it's what I do and how I'm wired, brah. So yeah, I guess I am ready to be on some G shit if that means protecting you and protecting family, man,” he said pounding his fist against his chest.
Anguish cut across my heart. I lived my life up to the point of living with Mama Claudette by crafting a survival plan for my little brother and me. It was easier back then. All I had to protect was me and him. This shit was different. I wasn't an innocent child making threats just because someone got in my face and was trying to harm me or take from me.
Now, I was a grown-ass man, making threats that I had to follow through on to keep my family alive. I had to become the streets I was born into. I had to become that nigga I hated. A nigga who killed and took with no remorse because his dick got off on the power of eliciting fear in others. Or, because he was just too fucking dumb and lazy to even be able to think that he could do more than fuck up a community and kill people for his own gain. I had to become that.
Naw, I was now being forced to become that and it was driving me crazy. Mama Claudette had rewired my mind to see that I could do more than be the streets, and now I had to flip that switch back? Everyone around me was looking to me to do that?
Fuck.
My life wasn't my own.
Stepping up to me Cory locked eyes on me but kept his distance. “What we did ain't nothing new, Von. There was no way that we wouldn't watch your back.”
“Why were y'all there? That's what I don't understand. Why were y'all there? I asked, incredulous.
My little brother blew out steam, looked around then slid his hands in the pockets of his jeans before addressing me. “First off, none of us want this life either, Von,” Cory said with a gentle touch in his voice; but there was something off about him. I couldn't place my finger on it just yet and my mind was still trying to process all that had gone down anyway. “But it's falling in on us. We came to talk to you about it since you haven't been answering our phone calls.”
I shook my head cutting my eyes as I thumbed my nose. “So you're not in front of me right now to plead your case of why I should be accepting of all this bullshit? You're not trying to live the grandiose life and kick it like Tony Montana huh?” The last of what I said was spit out in sarcastic Spanish.
Mimicking my sarcastic laugh, Cory glanced briefly at Shanelle then Lamont before sighing. “Nah, but we need you to be.” Walking up on me Cory pointed back with urgency at where we came from. “
Hermano,
did you not see how those fuckers were? They were testing you and ready to take you out in one blow because you are a threat to them. We are a threat to them. Clear your mind. None of us wants this shit, none of us, but we got it. We inherited it and now we have to follow through with it or we'll all be lying right next to Mama.”
Turning from them my head spun out of control with everything that was being said. A closed-off part of me that remembered what it was like to be in the streets whispered in my mind. It was a part that I allowed to disappear after feeling safe and secure at Mama Claudette's. It was the forgotten part of me that only Cory knew and from the look in his brownish-gray eyes, I knew it was that part of me he spoke to.
“Nigga, don't act like you never almost killed for us,”
his unspoken words in Tagalog and Spanish said.
“Don't act like you forgot about one of Toya's boyfriends and how two of those niggas came up with a cut throat and a gunshot wound when at one time both separately tried to beat then rape you and me.”
The stern look on his golden brown face and his gaze reminded me of everything I did to protect us both, as my conscience whispered to me.
Don't forget what y'all did. Don't forget the feel of that gun and blade in your hands, or the blood. Don't forget he took them from you and helped take those niggas down as well. Don't forget family loyalty.
“Cory's right, Von.” Shanelle's soft voice interrupted the silent fight between my brother and me. “Pulling my gun on them was scary but I'll do it again if they ever come in our face again; and next time, if I have to, I'll pull that trigger. We have to think like that now if we're going to survive.”
Everything they were saying was irrational to me except the part about survival. “What do we know of shipping product, running that shit? Fighting is easy, simple. But then after that we have killing and micromanaging, basically. We know nothing,” I added trying to keep out of my voice the need to plead and stop where we were going.
“Not true,” Cory said watching me. “Every one of us has been around the drug game enough to pick up some things. I know we did.”
“Still . . .” I started to say then shut up. “I need to think.”
“Mama said trust in each other. That's all you got to do, Von. Don't you trust us?” Shanelle gently stated while walking with me as I went back to my ride.
Looking down at her I sighed. “That's the thing. I do and all I'm trying to do is be the real constant that keeps us on the right path.”
“Sometimes, shit doesn't go the way you try, big bro,” Lamont said with a sullen expression still standing near Cory's ride.
“And sometimes, no matter how much you try, your plans don't mean a thing when a gun is locked and loaded on your skull.” Pointing at his temple, Cory mimed a gun with his hand then dropped it. “I don't want this, Von, but I'm going to learn everything I can to cover our backs, know that.”
“Even doing time or death?” I added in retort then slammed the side of my door not wanting to keep this conversation going.
The ride home was silent even though I felt Shanelle's searching eyes. My own stayed shuttered and focused on the road while making sure that we weren't followed. I figured that since the men who were part of the Syndicate knew where we were this afternoon they definitely knew where we all lived as well. The very thought of that made my blood boil.
Climbing out of the car, I grabbed my things, moved to open Shanelle's door, then waited until she got out. We were in the garage of our apartment complex when my cell phone rang off the hook. I hit the alarm then we headed up in the elevator as I sent Cory's calls to voicemail. I had nothing else to say on the matter, which was why I was ignoring my brother's calls. Luckily, Shanelle didn't press me about it either. I ended up listening to her speak about work and other random things to distract me. The sentiment, among others, was appreciated.
One of those other things was the fact that she walked around in one of my shirts. This one was my gray college T-shirt. My gaze was locked on the lobes of her caramel brown ass as it jiggled when she walked back and forth in the kitchen making us spaghetti, garlic cheese bread, and a mixed salad. Today was her turn to cook. Watching her on the low, I checked her appearance. Shanelle wore hip-hugging black silk and lace boy shorts with knee-high black socks. Though her ass wasn't
Magic City
huge, it was naturally large enough to swallow those puppies and it helped distract me from my thoughts. Though for some reason, I wanted to ask her why she was so willing to accept our foster mother's arrangement.
Sticking my fork into the plate of food she set in front of me, I picked at it and frowned in thought. “Why are you willing to risk your life and the life of our family to go with Mama's fucked-up scheme?” I asked speaking to the plate. Bright red smeared around on the plate mixing with the yellowish-white strings of noodles and rounded chunks of cheese-covered meatballs.
Shanelle's quietness was ticking at my nerves. I knew that she was trying to carefully form her words and opinion and I didn't want that. I wanted the real, 100 percent truth from her.
Cutting into the meatball, I continued my poking at the plate, twirling it in the sauce. “Be one hundred with me.”
“I always am, Von. To protect family, I do whatever need be,” she said sitting next to me. “But, to answer you, I'm not willingly going with Mama's scheme. Who logically would place themselves in harm just to sling some dope and dodge bullets when they are in a position where they don't have to?”
Annoyed, I grabbed the garlic bread and dipped it into the sauce. “I'm not feeling that, because you were one of the main ones ready to put those killer dope girl gloves on.”
Pushing back from the table Shanelle didn't even touch her food. She just squared her eyes on me then frowned. “It's not even like that. I say again, my choice in this is one thing: survival, baby. If someone is going to gun for me and mine because of our mother's choices, then guess what? I'm going to strap up and buck the fuck up a'ight? Understand me on that please, baby.”
Sometimes, I just needed her blunt realness. Everyone around me had me feeling as if I were in a tunnel. Their eyes begged me to step up. I didn't want to. I still was thinking, but my main constant was Shanelle. Naw, I didn't rely on her too much because I made my own choices. But, like any sane man, if you have an intelligent woman by your side then you make her your equal. That's how it was in the old days of Africa and that's how it would be with me and Shanelle.
Which was why I exhaled and backed up from the table.
“You have to make a choice. We're all waiting on you, Von,” she said following me.
“No, I don't, and I'm not telling you all to wait on me. Make your own choices. If you y'all want to die, then go do that. I'm not about to shoulder that because Mama is dictating this shit. She specifically chose us for this. Do you understand that? We were her pawns and nothing more,” I said pulling my arm from her hold and walking away.
BOOK: The Syndicate
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