"You never know, Nina. Anything is possible."
"We’ll see," Nina said and walked toward the VIP room. It was a half-hour later when Black looked up and saw two men escorting Nina out of the VIP room and out of the club.
Hector didn’t know anything about Shy’s kidnapping so Black left the club. He really didn’t think that Hector knew anything about it but, "You never know when we might need an ally down here. Let’s get back to New York. And besides," Black paused as Bobby drove off. "I really came here to see Nina."
Cruz looked angrily at Black. He had heard the whisperings at family gatherings about his favorite Aunt Nina and Mike Black, and the reason Hector sent her to Miami a year before he actually made his move down there himself.
Even though Hector spoke of Black with respect now, and told Cruz not to fuck with Black, he was anxious to take him on. He thought that it was disrespectful for Black to even mention Nina’s name in front of him. It just made Cruz more determined to prove something to his uncle and prove it against Black.
"Can I get you a drink?"
"I’m particular about who I drink with," Bobby said and smiled at Cruz.
Cruz looked up at Jorge. "What can I do for you, Black?" he asked.
Black leaned forward. "I hear a lot of things but I don’t pay very much attention to them."
"Why is that?" Cruz asked.
"’Cause a lot of men talk, but it’s what they do that impresses me."
"What you heard?"
"Like I said, it doesn’t matter. ’Cause until that talk becomes action, it’s all just talk. But what I do wanna ask you about is Kenny Lucas."
"I heard he got popped," Cruz said and laughed a little. Bobby started to reach for his gun, but Black grabbed his hand.
"What were you and Kenny beefin’ about that night at the club?"
"You got it all wrong. Me and Kenny wasn’t beefin’ ’bout nothin’."
"Then what was his gun doin’ in your face?" Bobby asked.
"What you tryin’ to say? You tryin’ to say that I killed him?" Cruz shouted.
"The thought occurred to me," Black said.
Cruz sprung to his feet. "If I killed him, I ain’t got no problem sayin’ I did it. ’Cause I represent mine."
As Cruz’s men began to move closer around the table, Black looked at Bobby and then back to Cruz. Bobby turned over the table and Black stood up with both of his guns drawn.
Cruz fell over his chair.
Black stepped up quickly and stood over him. "And I ain’t got no problem with killin’ you right now," Black said.
Cruz put up his hands. "I got no problem with you, Black. And I ain’t kill your boy."
"That’s all I wanted to know," Black said, and he and Bobby backed out of La Caridad. Jorge stepped to the table and tried to help Cruz get up. "You okay?" he asked with his hand out.
Cruz slapped his hand away and got to his feet. He watched Black and Bobby leave. "I’m gonna kill that mutha fucka."
"But your uncle said to leave Black alone," Jorge reminded Cruz.
Cruz got in Jorge’s face. "I don’t give a fuck what my uncle says. That bitch is gonna die. And I’m gonna be the one to kill him."
After leaving La Caridad, Black went to Cynt’s to pick up his car. He had an appointment to meet Jada West at her apartment in midtown. On the way there, Bobby asked, "Do you believe him?"
"I don’t know, Bobby. He might’ve had him killed. He might know about it. Either way, we gonna have to deal with it."
"Any time we get too comfortable, somebody always comes along to try us."
"And we’ll kill them, too," Black said and thought about the natural order of things as they arrived at Cynt’s.
"So where you say you had to go?" Bobby asked.
"I’m going to meet Jada West. She said she had something important to talk to me about. You should ride. You might need her services."
"I got something that I need to take care of. And besides, her ho’s charge too fuckin’ much; a thousand dollars for some pussy? No fuckin’ thank you. But with all this shit goin’ on, I’d feel better if you took somebody with you," Bobby said.
"I’ll be fine," Black said, but he knew Bobby was right. He looked around the room. "I’ll take Victor."
Black walked up to Victor, who was being entertained by two dancers. "You doin’ anything right now?" Black asked.
"No."
Black threw Victor the keys to his car. "Now you are. Come on."
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Nick hadn’t slept much that day, and what little sleep he got was haunted by dreams of Wanda walking out on him. Her last words to him before she left his apartment that morning rang in his ears. "I really did love you, Nick, even though I never said it before now. I really did love you."
Although he always believed that Wanda loved him, there were times when he would have given anything to hear her say it. It hurt for those to be her last words. It felt like Wanda had stuck a knife in his gut and turned it. He felt bad about what he had done to Wanda, and at the same time, he didn’t feel bad about what he was doing with Rain. He didn’t feel for Rain the way he felt for Wanda, but there was something about Rain; something that made her and her sex irresistible.
Nick rolled out of bed and got ready to make his rounds. When he left his apartment, he got as far as Cynt’s. He sat down at the bar. "Johnny Black, and leave the bottle," Nick said and the bartender did as she was told. At one point Cynt tried to talk to him, but gave up when she got no answer to the question, "What’s bothering you?"
He knew that Cynt would hear about it sooner or later. He didn’t want her sympathy or her condemnation when he explained that Wanda had left him because he was fucking Rain.
While Nick was trying to drown his sorrows in Johnny Black, Bobby was at Cynt’s too. He came out of the back with one of the dancers on his arm. He handed her a bill and was about to leave when he saw Nick sitting at the bar.
Bobby walked over to him and sat down. "What’s up, Nick?"
"What’s up, Bobby," Nick said and drained his glass.
Bobby looked at him and then at the bottle. Nick picked up the bottle and poured himself another drink. Bobby signaled for the bartender to bring him a glass.
"Mind if I join you?" Bobby asked.
"Go ahead." Nick said. Bobby poured himself a drink and filled Nick’s glass. "What you doin’ here?" Nick asked.
"Gettin’ my dick sucked," Bobby said.
The two of them sat drinking in silence. Every now and then, Bobby would look around at the array of naked women dancing around the club. He knew all of them and had fucked most of them. Some came over and spoke, others just waved. One or two tried to make conversation, but Bobby quickly dismissed them. He picked up the bottle and poured him another. Then he refreshed Nick’s drink.
They sat quietly drinking through two more rounds before Bobby said something to Nick. "Something bothering you?"
"What makes you ask?" Nick replied and turned up his drink. He poured the last of the bottle into his glass. Bobby signaled for the bartender to bring another bottle. The bartender cracked the bottle open and poured Bobby another shot. By that time Nick had crushed his, and held out his glass for another.
"You drinkin’ like a man that got something on his mind that he doesn’t wanna deal with. When shit like that happens to me, I just say fuck it."
"Fuck it?"
"Yeah, fuck it."
"All right then," Nick said and raised his glass. "Fuck it." They both turned up their glasses and drained them.
"Now, don’t you feel better?"
"No."
"That’s because you didn’t mean it when you said it. See, for it to work you gotta say it and know that whatever it is that’s fuckin’ with you is something that you got no control over, for whatever reason, and then you say fuck it and put it behind you," Bobby said.
Nick looked at Bobby and shook his head. "Me and Wanda broke up."