Bobby laughed. “Or not,” he said as Henderson arrived.
“We need to talk,” he said the second he was close enough.
I took a step toward him. “What we need to talk about?”
“That shit you pulled last night with Emmet.”
“What shit you talkin’ ’bout?”
Henderson laughed. “Don’t fuck with me, nigga. I ain’t Emmet. Me and André was killin’ young punk niggas like you two when you was still suckin’ on your mama’s tittie. I bet André don’t even know what you up to, because if he did, he’d put a stop to you and your shit permanently.” He got in my face. “I oughta throw you outta here like you did Emmet, Vicious Black.” He laughed and poked me in my chest.
When he touched me, I took a step back, and reached for my gun. I pointed it in Henderson’s face and pulled the trigger.
It got everybody’s attention.
When his body hit the floor, I stood over him and put three more in his chest.
I guess Pistol Pete finally got over the shock of what he’d just seen, because he started to go for his gun. When he did, Bobby raised his gun to Pete’s temple and fired.
It was then that Nick and Jamaica came in the spot. When they realized that it was already on, they pulled out their guns and covered the room. Some of Henderson's men started to move, but I saw Drew hold up his hand to stop them.
“I want everybody to understand. These are my streets now. You don’t make money in my streets without paying me.”
“Anybody got a problem with that?” Bobby asked.
That was when Drew stepped forward with his hands in the air. “No, Black. Ain’t nobody got a problem with it,” he said and turned to one of what were now his men. “Get them outta here.”
Chapter Four
Me and Bobby made our way to the back where the office was, while Nick and Jamaica continued to cover the room. I looked at Drew moving around the spot talking to his people, and once they moved Henderson's body, it didn’t take long for the place to return to normal. Mutha fuckas went right back to drinking and gambling, hoes went back to stripping and selling pussy like the shit never happen.
“So what’s the deal now, Mike?” Drew asked when he came in the office. He sat down at Henderson’s desk. “First thing I gotta do is get a new chair,” he laughed.
Me and Bobby did too, because it was kinda funny, but Drew was laughing like it was the funniest shit in the world. But I had just made him the man in his corner of the world, so fuck it.
“You and me are partners in this Drew; seventy-thirty your way. We still kick up twenty-five percent to André,” I said.
Drew sat back in his chair as he considered my offer. From where I’m sitting, the choice was simple. He just watched me kill his boss, so he should know that I won’t care nothing about killin’ him too.
But I really didn’t want to do that.
You see, other than Pistol Pete, Henderson didn’t have a lot of niggas that were really loyal around him. Most of his crew was locked up or he had just outlived them.
Henderson was surrounded by Drew’s crew. That’s why I decided not to kill him. If Nick had stepped up and put one in Drew’s head like I had originally planned, we’d still be trading shots with his men.
“I can live with that.” Drew stood up with his hand out. I stood and we shook on our new partnership.
You damn right he could live with that. Shit, I had just saved him the trouble of killing Henderson himself one day. I glanced over it Bobby. He stood there, staring Drew down with his arms folded across his chest, because he had no intention of shaking Drew’s hand.
When I opened the door and stepped out, I saw that Nick and Jamaica were surrounded by Drew’s crew. I pulled out both of my guns.
“What the fuck we got here,” I said with my guns at my side.
“Nothing, Black,” Tyron said, and them niggas started to back up off Nick and Jamaica.
I stepped up to him. “I didn’t fuckin think so,” I said as Drew came out of the office. “Anybody got a problem with Henderson being dead and wants to join him needs to speak up now.”
All I heard was the sound of music.