Roy Glenn - MOB

“No, you a stupid muthafucka with a death wish,” the one with the gun said as he put it to Travis’s head. “Search him.”

Travis was relieved of his weapon and took a fist to the stomach. The blow caught him off guard and knocked the wind out of him, but it didn’t really hurt. Travis was running on adrenaline now. The two men grabbed him by the arms, in case he thought about doing something about the punch.

“What you wanna see Chilly about?”

“I wanna talk to him.”

“About what?”

“About Bruce.”

“What about Bruce?”

“Are you Chilly?”

“No.”

“Then it ain’t your business,” Travis said. He suddenly realized how foolish this was. The smart-ass answer cost Travis two more shots to the gut; he felt the butt of a gun hit his mouth.

That hurt.

While the beating continued, a crowd formed around them. One man forced his way thought the crowd. “What the fuck is goin’ on here?”

“This mutha fucka says he wants to see Chilly, Rocky.”

“Who is he and what he wanna see Chilly for?” Rocky asked.

“He said he’s a friend of Bruce Lawrence.”

“No shit. I didn’t think Bruce had any friends,” Rocky said and slapped Travis in the face.

“Who is this nigga?” someone asked behind Rocky.

Rocky turned around to find Chilly and Derrick standing behind him. “He says he’s a friend of Bruce. Wants to talk to you.”

Travis turned up his bloody face and saw Chilly standing before him. Chilly looked at Travis and shook his head. “You must be a friend of Bruce, ’cause you really are a stupid muthafucka. You walk up in here by yourself, wanna talk to me about another stupid muthafucka.” Chilly looked at Rocky. “He don’t wanna talk to me, he wanna die.”

“Hold up, Rock. Chilly, let me talk to you for a second,” Derrick said and stepped closer to Chilly. “I seen this nigga before.”

“Where?”

“He’s with Freeze.”

“Freeze? You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Chilly looked at Travis again. “You don’t want nothing from me.”

“I wanna know what happened to Bruce,” Travis said and Rocky punched him in the face.

“Nobody asked you to talk.”

“Whatever went on with Bruce ain’t none of your business. Get him out of here,” Chilly said and walked away.

Derrick followed behind Chilly. “Don’t kill him. Just take him out back.”

Travis was taken to the back door of the club and thrown out into the back alley. He picked himself up from the pile of trash he landed in and thought, that didn’t go well at all. As he walked away, he realized that it had gone the only way it could have. It was stupid for him to walk up in there in the first place. And coming alone was worse. What were you expecting, a nice sit-down conversation?

Back inside The Spot, Chilly sat down at a table and pulled out his cell phone to call Freeze.

“Yo.”

“Freeze, this Chilly.”

“What’s up?”

“You send one of your people over here to ask me some shit about how I run my business?”

“No,” Freeze answered, knowing he meant Travis. “I didn’t send him. And you know better than to ask me some shit like that.”

“He with you?”

“Yeah, he’s with me, so I hope you respected that.”

“He’s still alive. But he got educated while he was here.”

“I can respect that.”

“Who is this nigga, anyway?”

“He’s a friend of Bruce’s sister.”

Chilly laughed. “I’m beginning to understand this shit now. She’s a bad bitch, and bad bitches make niggas do stupid shit.”

Freeze laughed. “I told him to stay out of your business. But I should have told him that I would handle it.”

“Handle what?”

“I heard that he owed you money and you sent someone to collect.”

“What about that is any of your business?”

“It ain’t. Whoever you sent raped his daughter.”

“Freeze, word is bond, I didn’t know anything about that. Raped little Brandy?” Chilly thought for a second. “Well, I guess by now she ain’t no little girl.”

“That’s still some fucked up shit,” Freeze said. “I know that ain’t how you do business. I know you got more honor than that, and I assured Travis of that. But like you said, bad bitches make smart men do stupid shit. So, I apologize for his disrespect, but I do ask that you do something about that situation.”

“You have my word,” Chilly said as Derrick tapped him on the shoulder. Chilly looked up and noticed that Detectives Kirkland and Richards were standing in front of him. “I’ll get with you, later about that. The police are here,” Chilly said and hung up the phone.

“I didn’t mean to rush you off the phone, Chilly,” Detective Kirkland said.

“That’s all right, Kirk. I always got time to talk to you,” Chilly said.

“You mind if we sit down?” Kirk asked as he sat down.

“Have a seat, Kirk. Can I get you a drink?”

“No,” Detective Richards said. “We’re on duty.”

“Shit, I know plenty of cops that drink on duty. Y’all stick around, you might see one or two of them. But enough of this small talk. What y’all want?”

“What do you think, Chilly? I wanna talk to you.” Kirk dropped a picture on the table in front of Chilly. “You know this man?”

Chilly picked up the picture and looked at it carefully. “I know this guy. His name is-” Chilly snapped his fingers. “Let me think. What’s his name?”

“Bruce Lawrence,” Richards said.

“That’s right, Bruce Lawrence. He used to work at the bank where my wife does business. If I’m not mistaken, he got fired from there years ago for stealing.”

“I heard that he works for you, Chilly,” Kirkland asserted.

“Doin’ what?”

“The way I get it, Chilly, is that Lawrence worked for you and he owed you money,” Kirkland said.

Detective Richards picked up the picture and left the table. He began walking around The Spot, showing the picture around.

“He was found dead in his home a few days ago. The house was torn up, like somebody was looking for something,” Kirk continued.

“So what are you saying, Kirk?”

“I haven’t done anything but state the facts in the case. I’m definitely not sayin’ that you had him killed. If I was sayin’ that, you’d have cuffs on. I just wanna know what you know.”

“Kirk, let’s stop this shit. You know who I am and you know what I do. Yeah, I know Bruce, and I told you from where I know him. You know that bitch nigga didn’t work for me. So, what we doing here?”

Kirk laughed. “Okay, Chilly, let’s cut the bullshit. I know the weasel didn’t work for you. Couldn’t. He just ain’t the type. But he was murdered along with his wife. Killers raped his wife before they killed her, and they raped a sixteen-year-old girl.

“I know rape ain’t your style, Chilly, so I don’t believe you’re involved. This Lawrence guy is more likely a user, so I’m thinking that maybe he owed one of your people. They went to collect, things got out of hand and shit happened. Like I said, I just wanna know what you know.”

Chilly sat back and looked at Derrick then back to Kirk. “I hear what you’re sayin’, Kirk.”

“I don’t think you do,” Kirk said, looking around the room to see where his partner was. “I don’t give a fuck if you animals kill each other off by the thousands. Shit, you muthafuckas can all line up against that wall right now and I’ll shoot you fucks myself. You’re all scum, selling death to your own people. You all need to die a slow and painful death, just like the one you’re dealin’ to them. So fuck you, fuck all of you to hell. But when you animals start raping little girls, see, that’s different. I want this guy, Chilly. Follow me now?”