The Syndicate (6 page)

“Von, you have to confront this,” Shanelle pleaded. “What she did I want to say is wrong, but I . . . I just can't. She took us out of crappy, sometimes horrific situations and gave us peace and sanctity. I can't . . . I just can't hate her for that part of it.”

I could hear in Shanelle's voice her tears choking up her speech. “But what about this part of it huh?” I asked reaching out to wipe at her tears. “I'm scared for the family. You don't understand that if I accept this, we won't be the same.”

The softness of Shanelle's body pressed against the front of me. Licking my lips, I dropped my head to press it against the crown of her soft hair. For now, I conceded. For the past week I had ignored Shanelle's touches. Right now, I needed them to take the edge off and focus. Lifting her around my waist, I took her mouth and allowed our tongues to dance. I was tired of my own complaints and just wanted to forget the bullshit.

“I miss her,” I muttered against Shanelle's lips.

Shanelle's light moan sent a rush of desire through me, especially with the feel of her haven pressing against my swelling hardness.

I was about to say, “Damn,” but she interrupted me before I could.

“We all miss her. I miss her so much, baby. I feel like this is the only way I can be close to her now,” she said lightly massaging the back of my neck. “We need you, baby.”

Groaning low in my throat, my head dropped back against the hallway wall we stood in. She had her hand against my hardness, creating a heady massage that had me eager to fill her up. It was crazy. I knew that she was trying to use her body to coax me into a choice but my base desires had me ignoring that for a quick hit of her sweet kitty.

When it came to sex between us, Shanelle and I were always compatible with our libidos. If we needed each other, we always got down to business, no qualms about it, even when angry with each other. It was how we communicated sometimes and, right now, our bodies were doing the talking. I watched Shanelle pull off my black beater. She slid her palms over the ridges of my amber brown toned abs. I enjoyed how she seemed to get off with just touching me and seeing me with no shirt on.

The tips of her fingers traced the indent of my hips. They leisurely found their way over the light trail of hair running from my belly button and disappearing into my slightly sagging drawstring pants. It was then that a husky groan slipped from me as she pressed her velvety lips against my bare chest. A part of me wanted to still battle her, have her on my side and mindset with this all, but when she worked my pants down and allowed my manhood to spring free directly into her mouth, a nigga was undone.

Shanelle had the reins in this and the moist sucking of her kisses were sweet music to my ears. Head dropped back against the wall, I watched her work and cater to me as if this wasn't about my pleasure but about hers. Honestly, if it were, I couldn't care less. My fiancée's mouth was a prize to be celebrated and I was enjoying the moment. Intrigued by the magnificent and enchanting way she was able to swirl and snake her tongue around my tip before sucking me like a Blow Pop, I pulled back, reached down, and traded places with her.

Now it was my time to admire her like the artwork she was. Dropping to one knee, I lifted Shanelle on my shoulders, leaning back to see her alluring curves. On her hip, lining it was a line of stars ending in an ankh. I allowed the tip of my tongue to taste the sweetness of her skin against my taste buds. As my hands trailed under her shirt, my palms found their way to the plush, malleable mounds of her melon-sized breasts. Like cantaloupes really. I enjoyed how she arched into them. The hardness of her nipples playing against my hands adding to the desire between.

A slick smile played across my face. My tongue found its way against the silky slit of her womanhood to be rewarded with the opening of her petals and the slow reveal of her pussy's bud. Suddenly hungrier than a motherfucker, I dived in and drank her like rain. She let those thick thighs clamp against my ears as her fingers ran over the clean line part on the right side of my hair then through the soft, kinky curls of my afro fade. Egged on, my hands slipped under her cushy ass. I palmed and massaged her until I had her bouncing against me and struggling to hold on as she said my name.

Shanelle was a sweet distraction. Too bad that ended at the sound of the house phone ringing. We both tried to ignore it. My baby was begging me to give her the D, but the phone kept ringing. We both knew that when that happened it could only mean an emergency.

Angst made my stomach clench as I rushed to the phone with her by my side. I picked up and the first thing I heard was my brother rapidly speaking in panicked Spanish and Tagalog.

“Von! Nigga, you should have answered your cell phone, the both of you. This isn't the time for a blackout, man,” he said in my ear.

Putting him on speaker, I put the cordless down then crossed my arms in worry. “What's going down? Were y'all followed?”

“Shit, yeah! We need you at Mama's. Jojo and Melissa got snatched!” Cory said, emotion making the phone shake on his end.

A stone cold shot froze me in place. If it weren't for Shanelle, I wouldn't have heard what happened.

“Are you serious, Cory?” she said in frantic panic. “How? Where? Who saw it?”

Rattling started on Cory's side of the line then he spoke up. “Fuck, man. Shit. A'ight. Lamont is talking to Inez. She said Jojo was going to pick Melissa up from her classes. Her car broke down remember? So, he was going to pick her up and get some shit from the store from Inez. As he was pulling up to Melissa, a black truck got in the way and someone snatched her. Jojo was on the phone with Inez when this was going down, so he was relaying everything he saw. Everything.”

As I listened, I backed up and quickly got my shit and got dressed as Shanelle followed me with the cordless phone.

“Jojo . . .” Cory paused then he continued. “Jojo hopped out his car and ran after them only to be snatched too. We found his cell in front of the student and faculty parking lot. We need you down here, Von. We need you both. We can't lose them too.”

Blind, hot anger raged through me. I already knew what I had to do. Everything Mama said and Uncle Snap said was going to happen was in progress, all because they wanted to disrespect her memory and press my family.
A'ight.
See, when backed in a corner, no one was ever safe from me when I was pinned down and when I broke free.

Glancing at Shanelle as she quickly dressed, I stepped to the door. “Let's go. We're on our way, baby bro.”

Don't fuck with mine. That's all I have to say.

“Take me to them,” Javon said as soon as he walked through the doors of Mama's house.

Uncle Snap was already there, strapped up like he was five-o or somebody. Dressed in navy blue slacks held up by suspenders and a white dress shirt with a black tie, he looked like the age-old detective he wasn't.

“You need to think about this, nephew,” Uncle Snap said, holding his hand out to Javon.

“I said take me to them,” Javon repeated.

I was nervous, but I was ready for war. Thoughts of Melissa and Jojo being kidnapped in broad daylight made me anxious, my trigger finger itchy. It reminded me of the days we all used to fight in the neighborhood. If one of us fought we all did, but that was normally because kids knew there were eight of us and they normally came ready to jump us.

“First you wanted him to suit up and become the leader and now you want him to think about it?” I asked Uncle Snap. “Think about what exactly?”

Inez's face was set in stone as she looked between us and our uncle. Monty and Cory stood posted like they were down to do whatever needed to be done. Naveen's eyes conveyed the worry he felt.

“What are you going to do, nephew, run up on a collective of the kings and queens of the underworld? And do what exactly?” Uncle Snap asked.

Javon stepped face to face with our uncle and stared him down. “Old man, you take me to these motherfuckers who snatched my family or you're the enemy to me at this point. Make a choice, Uncle. Make a choice and know this is the last option you get to make,” Javon said.

His tone was so cold and malicious that it made my flesh crawl. I hadn't expected Javon to go there. Clearly Uncle Snap hadn't either as his shoulders straightened, his spine stiffened, and he took a step back. “That's how you feel, Javon?” he asked.

“That's how the fuck I feel. Now, what are you going to do about it? Take me to them or cross the line to the other side,” Javon snarled.

“You ain't got no plan. Ain't got no fucking weapons. Haven't sat down with these people, but you want me to just lead you into the lion's den?” Uncle Snapped asked incredulously. “Ha. Okay, li'l nigga. Since you got balls of brass. A'ight.”

I could see Uncle was hurt behind Javon's words, but I could also see Javon's eyes had glossed over and he was no longer operating on respect and rules of the game. He was operating on instinct and the need to protect.

Uncle Snap snatched up a set of keys and we followed him to his truck. Cory hopped up front while the rest of us jumped in the back. The truck was so eerily quiet not even the radio seemed to drown it out. Javon's jaw was set in stone. His thigh rapidly brushed against my thigh as it bounced up and down. I had no idea what he was thinking or what was on his mind. All I knew was I didn't want to be on the other end of his wrath in the moment.

It took us about thirty minutes to get to a nondescript warehouse in the middle of nowhere. “The Syndicate normally meets here to discuss numbers and products that have been shipped in,” Uncle Snap said after we had all exited the truck. “When Claudette didn't show up last Saturday people started talking. It's my guess that Melissa and Jojo are in there somewhere.”

Javon didn't respond. He marched forward, with determination in each powerful stride he took. Before he could reach the door, Uncle Snap reached out to grab his arm.

Javon looked at Uncle Snap's hand then up to the man's eyes. “Listen to me, nephew, a'ight? I know you're angry and you got all right to be, but try some decorum when you come face to face with these people okay?”

“Anyone of them got something to do with Mama being dead?” Javon asked.

“They very well could.”

“And they took Melissa and Jojo?”

“One of them did, I'm sure.”

“Then fuck decorum.”

Uncle Snap sighed. “Nephew, remember Mama's words? You can trust me. I ain't the enemy. Been with your mama for years. I love . . . loved her. She was all I had. Rescued me the same as she did all of you, but in a different way, you feel me? Understand what I'm saying?”

Something unspoken passed between Uncle Snap and Javon in that moment. I didn't know what it was, but Javon's stand softened in a way only I, Cory, and maybe Uncle Snap could see.

“Understand me, nephew. I got you, no matter what. But in order for any of this shit to go down smoothly, please just listen to me,” Uncle Snap pleaded.

Javon didn't say anything. He gave one head nod and that was all that was needed between the two alpha males before me.

“One more thing, Javon. The Syndicate, they're the governing body of all the top crime families in the U.S. They rival what was once known as the Commission up North. So this ain't some silly street turf shit. This is the real deal. The big kahuna so to say. If someone put a hit out on Claudette, these are the people who approved it. These are the people who divide up turf and give it to the different drug dealers all over the U.S. This shit is bigger than some petty drug lord getting a crew and naming it the Cartel who runs one city or some shit. The Syndicate could go up against the cartel of Mexico if they so chose. That's how big this thing is you're walking into. This is what your mama ran for over twenty-five years. Do you know how hard that was to do as a black woman? That means she bodied many a nigga and did some shit that would make you all cringe, for over thirty fucking years!”

The reality of Uncle's words settled among us. Cory looked at me. Monty and Inez looked at Uncle in awe while Naveen stood unmoved.

“When you walk in here, nephew, if you about to say fuck all I just said, then you let these niggas know you ain't coming to play no games. Mama had to become a monster to demand their respect. You're going to become something worse. So before you walk in here, that devil that dances on your shoulder . . .” Uncle said as he used two fingers to poke the area over Javon's heart. “And don't deny it, Javon, I've seen that thang in you for years. Seen you fight to keep it under control. I know it when I see it because I loved it and encompassed it when I decided to love yo' mama. So that devil and that God that battle for dominance in you, need to become one.”

As soon as Uncle finished his last sentence, the door to the warehouse came open. Men heavily armed and dressed in black fatigues ushered us inside the building. While the outside wasn't anything to write home about, the inside was another story. We were led down a long, dark hall until we came to intricately carved double doors. Before they let us in, we were patted down and stripped of our weapons. A move that left me feeling like we all had targets on our backs.

Once that was done, two of the guards pushed the doors open to a room that was so immaculately decorated it looked as if we had just walked into a mansion in heaven. Gold carved lions sat regally in two corners of the room as lights that looked like torches lined the walls. In the middle of the room was a long table just like the one Uncle had shown us in the picture before. Above it was a low-hanging golden chandelier. Empty place settings of dishes sat before each person as if dinner was normally served at these meetings. All the chairs at the table had been filled except the one that sat off in a dark corner of the room.

My heart sank knowing that had been Mama's chair. The rest of my siblings must have felt the same as all their eyes turned to the chair then back to the table. All eyes were on us. There was a white man who sat at the head of the table, which made Javon tilt his head. Anytime his head tilted I knew something bothered him to the point of anger.

“Good afternoon,” Javon greeted him, which surprised me. “I'm not sure if you know me, but we're just going to assume you do since you sent for me earlier today. I'm Javon McPhearson. My mother used to run this here Syndicate I'm told.”

“‘Used to' being the operative words,” the white man sitting at the head of the table said.

“Please don't interrupt me again when I'm speaking,” Javon said. “You sent for me. I refused your invitation. You proceeded to kidnap my little brother and my sister as if . . . as if that was okay. Miguel,” Javon called, “how would you feel if I went and snatched your daughter from that private school in East Hampton, New York?” he asked.

I, along with all my other siblings, stepped back and looked at Javon like he was someone we hadn't seen before. How the hell did he know these people by name?

“What about you, Ming Lee? Your twin daughters are nestled away in London at a private academy. And you, Rusev? Your son is in hiding in Cali, blending in with the surfers and preppy rich kids. I was under the impression that children and women were off-limits,” Javon said.

Uncle Snap was wide-eyed for a few minutes then he chuckled and mumbled, “I should have known.”

I wanted to ask what he should have known, but I was smart enough to keep my mouth closed. I knew each of the people he called by the way their eyes widened.

“I had nothing to do with any of your siblings being taken, Javon,” the one named Miguel spoke up. He was a Latino male with a close crop of curly hair atop his head. He carried a stern look about him as he sat with his hands clasped in front of him. Just as Javon had studied them, it seemed as if they had studied up on him as well.

“Neither did I,” Rusev added, his accent not thick enough to impede his English.

“I would never sanction such a call, Mr. McPhearson,” the woman named Ming Lee answered. She was younger than she looked in the picture I'd seen of her before. Her long hair fell into a silky wave over her eye. The side was held back by a floral hairpin nestled in the side of her hair. Her eyes lured you in, but clearly she wasn't to be taken lightly. She too was dressed in a black suit, like the men at the table. As they spoke, Javon walked closer to the table. I looked to the left and right of me and decided to stay where I was. Cory and Uncle Snap flanked Javon. The tension in the room was thick.

“Cormac, you're sitting at the head of the table as if you've been voted to take the place left vacant by my mother.”

Cormac's hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Catlike gray eyes followed Javon's every move. His pale skin needed a tan, but his arrogance was on a hundred as he eyeballed Javon.

“The rules of the Syndicate dictate that someone step up in the interim in case the boss of the bosses vacates their seat. I stepped in because I've been with the Syndicate just as long if not longer than your mother has . . . well, was,” Cormac said.

My eyes turned to slits at the way he said “was.” I didn't even know the man and wanted to kill him on the strength of the fact that I thought he was making fun of Mama's demise.

Javon walked around the table and touched each man and woman on their right shoulder. Some nodded as a show of respect, others bristled. I had no idea what he was doing, but I trusted his logic and instinct. “Cory, bring me Mama's chair,” Javon said.

I watched on silently along with Naveen, Monty, and Inez. Once Cory brought Javon the chair, Javon set it next to where Cormac was, then stood behind the man.

“Did you take my sister and my brother?” Javon asked calmly.

Cormac's face reddened when Javon laid a hand on each of the man's shoulders. My fingers moved on their own out of nervousness. I started to feel antsy.

Cormac signaled one of the guards. They left the room and came back seconds later with a distraught Melissa and visibly shaken Jojo. Our little brother didn't have his glasses on so I knew he couldn't see two paces before him. Melissa's right eye was bruised, which angered me.

Cormac chuckled and tried to look behind him. “I, ah, I simply wanted to get your attention, lad. It's been seven or so days and you haven't reached out to us. I know Raphael has told you the way things are done by now. Your mother was a smart lady. I know she left provisions in place.”

Javon did something I didn't expect. He laughed. It was almost maniacal in nature. “Oh is that it?” Javon asked as he patted the man's shoulders and then looked around the table. “Oh well then, it's no big deal, none at all. He just wanted to get my attention. Ha, ha. I respect that. I respect it,” Javon said, almost as if he was rambling.

Then he stopped laughing and talking. His upper lip twitched in the left corner. His sleight of hand was baffling to the eyes. He snatched up a long fork and before anyone could react, he jammed the fork in Cormac's neck over and over and over again. Each stab was harder than the one before. People at the table sat unmoved as if they were used to seeing people killed in such a violent manner. Blood spurted and spewed all over the place. Javon's teeth were bared as he did so. He'd snapped. Cormac gargled blood as he struggled to breathe. Futilely, he tried to grab behind him to claw at Javon.

The guard next to me was occupied with the scene before him, and shocked. I snatched the handgun on his hip, popped the safety and, before he could raise the gun in his hands, I'd blown his brains clear across the room. Taking out the guards in the back of the room was easy. One shot. Two shots. Three shots. Four. They all went down like dominoes. Monty's meaty fist pounded another guard until he was laid out in a bloody pulp. Inez had jumped on the back of one while Naveen sliced the man's stomach open. When they took the weapons from us, they never paid attention to Naveen's belt. He'd made it himself. When not used for a belt, it effectively turned into a sword. I wouldn't know when or how the boy made it, but he had. That came from growing up in a place where he had to learn to fight for survival, food, and his manhood.

I looked back up just in time to see Javon shoving Cormac's head down into the gold bowl before him. I swore it looked like Javon was foaming out the mouth and had gone mad.