Roy Glenn - No More Tears In The End

“Not especially.”

“Good. Then you have time to have a drink with me.”

“Sure,” I said and Rain led me to a table near the back of the club and signaled for a waitress.

I had Johnnie Black of course, she had straight tequila. After we ordered, Rain took a deep breath. “I wasn’t exactly honest with you back there in the office.”

“Honest about what?”

“The robbery.”

“What about the robbery?”

“I heard the same thing. That it was some of our people that did it.”

“Why didn’t you say that then, and the better question is why are you tellin’ me now?”

“You probably couldn’t tell it to look at him, but my father ain’t in the best of heath. He’s been sick a lot lately.”

“I couldn’t tell. What’s wrong with him?”

“Doctors don’t know. Bunch of fuckin’ quacks. All that fuckin’ money we give them and other than him havin’ high-blood pressure, they can’t tell us shit.”

Rain stopped talkin’ when the waitress returned with our drinks. Once the waitress left, Rain shot her tequila. Not wantin’ to be punked by this young girl, I shot mine.

“I don’t like to bother Pops with shit like that. I ain’t tryin’ to make his pressure go up. You see how upset he was gettin’.”

“I can understand that. But my question is what you gonna do about it?”

“I can take you to the place where they hangout.”

“I don’t need you to take me anywhere. You just need to tell me who they are and where to find them.”

“No deal.”

No deal?

Has this little girl lost her fuckin’ mind?

“What you mean no deal? This ain’t no fuckin’ negotiation. You’re gonna tell me what I need to know and I’ll take care of it.”

“Good luck findin’ them without me then.”

I had to admit, the little girl had heart, I just wasn’t gonna admit it to her.

“Look, Nick, if these are my people. I’m the one who needs to make this right. Not you, me. So here’s how it’s gonna go. Me and you gonna roll by they spot, and I’m gonna handle my family’s business. And I’ma tell you why. See, I ain’t no stranger to you and how you handle your business.”

“Really?”

“Really. Niggas is still talkin’ ’bout some of the shit you and that nigga Freeze used to do: Burnin’ bitch-niggas with acid and shit; throwin’ muthafuckas off rooftops and shit. Y’all was the type a niggas that would shoot first and never get to the ask questions part. See, if you do that, all it’s gonna do is make muthafuckas wanna bust back for they homies. Then y’all gonna come at us and that ain’t how this shit need to go. Am I right?”

I didn’t answer her ’cause she was right. The way I was feelin’, I wouldn’t be askin’ how and why. I might just walk up on whoever it was and put a bullet in their brain and we’d be at war over some bullshit when Black, not to mention Wanda, are making plans to move us away from all this.

“Okay.” I stood up. “We’ll do it your way.”

“I knew you’d see the logic in my point,” Rain said and started for the door.

We got in my car, she told me where to go and I headed in that direction. I started to call some people to handle this shit for me, you know, since I was boss now. But I wanted to do this myself. I needed to let out some of this rage I was feelin’ over Freeze being dead and it being my fault. And besides, I was the one who promised Mrs. Phillips that I would see that whoever killed Zakiya would get what’s coming to them.

On the way, Rain told me about the stories she had heard about me and I told her which ones were true. “I gotta admit that I always wanted to meet you. I met Freeze a couple of times. That was one scary nigga, may he rest in peace; and relentless. Once he was on to something you might as well lay down ’cause you was good as dead.”

The more she talked about me and Freeze and the way we used to roll, the madder I got. I tried to calm myself down by changing the subject. “So with JR being sick, and you keepin’ shit from him, who runs things? Jeff Ritchie?”

“No. Jeff Ritchie is a bullet. You load him in a gun and pull the trigger. Jeff Ritchie ain’t got the mind for shit like that.”

“The question still stands.”

“I run shit.”

“You?”

“Yeah, me. Somethin’ wrong with that?”

“How old are you?”

“I’m twenty-two. And in case you didn’t hear me the first time, I’ll ask you again: Is somethin’ wrong with that?”

“No. Ain’t nothing wrong with that, as long as you can handle it.”

“And you don’t think I do?”

“I don’t know you. And even if I did, I still wouldn’t give a fuck. How y’all run your business don’t matter to me.”

“Okay, Nick. Chill out. I wasn’t tryin’ to make you mad or nothing. I got mad respect for you. And if what I hear in the wind is true-then you ain’t the one to be fuckin’ wit’,” Rain said.

I took a breath. “So, why don’t you tell me how you run your thing?”

“Well, Pops still pretty much runs the gambling and shit. And I run everything else.”

“What is everything else?”

“Little of this, little of that. I usually got something goin’. Sell a little dope, you know.”

“I thought JR wasn’t involved in the dope game?”

“He ain’t, and he don’t know that I am. And I hope that you ain’t plannin’ on tellin’ him. Like I said, shit like that will just send his blood pressure through the roof, and I ain’t havin’ that.”

“You don’t have worry about me bein’ a snitch. But I seem to remember JR havin’ a son. What’s up with him?”

“My brother Miles. He’s playin’ the family man role. You know, he married, a got a couple of kids. He runs the club and keeps the books. He ain’t got no heart for this other shit.”

“Okay, Rain, why don’t you tell me who we’re goin’ to see?”

“His name is Rodney Baker, but they call him Shake.”

“You know why he robbed our joint or why he killed those people?”

“I ain’t heard nothin’ ’bout that. I just heard it was him and his crew. I was gonna see ’bout it, but me and Shake don’t usually see eye-to-eye on shit. That’s what I was gonna talk to Pop about. Get some advice on how to settle our beef.”

“I thought you didn’t wanna bother him with shit like that?”

“I don’t. But that nigga is all out of control.”

We pulled up in front of the place and went inside. It was a neighborhood joint, long bar and a few tables. Loud rap music pumped from two huge speakers at the back of the room. “You see them?” I asked and Rain took a quick look around.

“No.”

I looked the place over for other exits. Always a good idea to know how we were gonna get out in case shit gets wild. “You know if that door leads to the street?”

“I think it goes to the back door that leads to the alley. But I ain’t sure.”

“Why don’t you get us a table by that door? I’m goin’ to get us a drink.”

I went to the bar and ordered while Rain went to find us a table. The bartender had just put our drinks on the bar when three men came through the front door. I looked over at Rain. She nodded her head and started moving through the crowd to get to them.

“That’s fifteen,” the bartender said.

I peeled off a twenty. “Keep the change.” I shot my drink and started for them. As I made my way, I saw Rain get up in the face of a big Jabba the Hut lookin’ muthafucka. I assumed that he was Shake by the size of his belly. By the time I got to them I heard Shake say, “You beat me outta ten grand, bitch!”

“Who the fuck you callin’ bitch, you fat muthafucka? I ain’t beat you outta shit!” And with that, Rain reached back and slapped the shit outta him.