“She hates Bull; so she kept tabs on him.” I thought for a minute. “And besides, I want a piece of her action.”
“You have for years.”
“This may be a way for both of us to get what we want.”
“You were gonna kill Bull anyway. Makes sense to let her think you’re doin’ her a favor,” Bobby said. “Good idea.”
“Thank you. I try to think up smart shit,” I said and waited for Bobby to say something, but he didn’t.
“You remember Keisha and Connie Mack?” Bobby asked.
“The Mack sisters. How could I forget them? Those were two fine-ass mutha fuckas.”
“Used to always be together,” Bobby said and laughed.
“Whenever you saw one, the other was around somewhere. They were inseparable.”
“How did we get them apart?” Bobby asked.
“You grabbed Keisha by the arm and dragged her in the room.”
“Yeah.” Bobby shook his head. “I had to talk to her for over an hour before she gave up that pussy.”
“Shit, soon as you closed the door, Connie looked at me and said, ‘wanna go in my room?’ ” I looked at Bobby. “Ain’t Keisha the one that used to go around sayin’ that you were her baby’s daddy?”
“That’s her.”
“What made you think about them?”
“Her daughter is dancin’ at Grant’s,” Bobby said.
“She call you daddy?”
“No!”
“She look like you?”
“No!”
“How you know she’s Keisha’s daughter?”
“She walked up to me and said, ‘You Bobby Ray, right?’ I said: yes. She said, ‘My mama said to tell you hello.’ So I asked: who’s your mama? She put her hand on her hip and said, ‘Keisha Mack.’ ”
“She got big-ass hips like her mama?”
“She look just like her mama. Got a body like her too,” Bobby said.
“Suppose that is your daughter? How would you feel about your daughter dancin’ at Grant’s?”
“It don’t matter ’cause she ain’t my daughter, Mike,” Bobby said, and I could tell he was gettin’ a little mad. Just like he did back then.
“Let me put it another way. How would you feel if Barbara, or better yet, if Bonita and Brenda were dancin’ at Grant’s? How would you feel then?”
“But they’re not.”
“They dance.”
“They do ballet!”
“Mercedes told me she used to do ballet,” I said quickly.
“Mercedes is dumber than a box of rocks,” Bobby partially shouted.
“What’s that got to do with it? She said that’s why she can stand in them four-inch stilettos and lift her leg straight up in the air-it’s from the balance she learned from doin’ ballet for years.”
“Fuck you, Mike.”
I laughed and so did Bobby. “All I’m sayin’ is that you need to find out if that’s your daughter or not. ’Cause I know I wouldn’t want Michelle shakin’ her ass in none of our spots or anyplace else. And I know you don’t want that for your girls either.”
“You right, Mike.”
“What she call herself?”
“Butta.”
I laughed again. “She got a big, round ass like her mama and her Aunt Connie?”
“Why you think they call her Butta?”
“Talk to Keisha. Find out if that’s your girl or not. If she is, give her a better life,” I said and then I dropped it.
I remembered that night with Connie; more because of what happened the day after. The next morning we went with Andre to meet with Greg Lacey. He was the closest thing Andre had to competition those days. Lace was what they used to call up-and-coming. But to me, he was a loudmouth fool who was always talkin’ when he should be listening. Even though I ended up killing Andre for betraying me, I listened to what he had to say and learned a lot from him.
But not Lace, he thought he knew it all, and tried to force his way into a piece of Andre’s game. It began one day when one of the guys who sold heroin for Andre started operating on a block that Lace considered his. Andre’s man killed him and Lace wanted satisfaction; so Andre agreed to sit down with him. The move surprised me, because Andre was king those days, and sitting down with Lace would make him appear stronger. But Andre knew what he was doing.
What surprised me more was when he told me and Bobby that we were going with him. Usually, his right-hand man, Ricky, would be the one to go to sit down with him. “I’m takin’ you two with me,” Andre said. “But I can’t take you niggas nowhere dressed like that.” That afternoon, Andre took me and Bobby down to Delancey Street and bought both of us a suit to wear to the sit down. He even had them tailored to fit us. We went and had dinner while the tailor got them ready. That’s how me and Bobby got with Keisha and Connie that night. Keisha liked the way Bobby looked in that suit. Before that night, Keisha wouldn’t give Bobby the time of day.
We were all set to go to the meeting, when one of Lace’s people called and said Lace was busy and couldn’t make it, but he would be there at ten that next morning. “He’s playin’ me like a sucker,” Andre said. “But that’s all right; I got something for his ass. Y’all go on and get outta here. And don’t get them fuckin’ suits dirty. I want you both lookin’ fresh; show this piss-ant nigga how a real playa does it.” We left Andre’s and ran into Connie and Keisha. When we got in her room, I told Connie, “Look, I need to get outta this suit. I got business in the morning and I can’t get it wrinkled.”
“I ain’t stoppin’ you,” Connie said and helped me get undressed.
That next morning, I got out of bed and called Andre to make sure it was still on. He wanted to know where we were, and said that he would come pick us up. I sent Connie to wake up Bobby and I got in the shower.
When we got to the meeting, Lace was there with four of his men, and he wasted no time. He started talkin’ shit the minute we walked in the place. Andre took it for the most part, until Lace said, “Your man was operating in my territory.”
Andre laughed. “I didn’t know you had a territory.”
After Lace got finished with his little speech, Andre looked at me and Bobby. “I’m a reasonable man. So I’m sure we can work something out so both of us can make some money. I don’t want anymore of this unfortunate gunplay.” He looked around the room. “It’s bad for business. So this is how we’ll do it: I’ll keep my people out of your territory and you respect mine.”
Lace had a big shit-eatin’ grin on his face. “That’s works for me. But I’m tellin’ you now, this shit happens again, I ain’t gonna be this reasonable about it. I’m gonna want blood.”
I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing at him.
“Nobody wants war,” Andre said. “Now, pour me one and let’s drink to this peace we just made.”
Lace poured Andre a drink and was about to pour one for me and Bobby. “No,” Andre stopped him, “they don’t drink.”
Andre, Lace, and his men, drank and talked shit, while me and Bobby looked on. Then Andre stood up and started laughing.
“What’s so funny?” Lace asked.
“Now that I’m thinkin’ about it, I ain’t givin’ you niggas shit.” When Andre said that, me and Bobby pulled out our guns and started shooting. The move caught them totally off guard, and we were able to kill two of them before they got their guns out.
Lace didn’t have a gun, so he tried to run, while we shot it out with his men. Andre pulled his gun and shot Lace in the back as he ran. Lace tried to crawl away and Andre walked him down. “Look around you, boy,” Andre said and kicked Lace in the face. “All this is my territory.” Then Andre shot Lace in the head.
Chapter Nine
Jada West
Once I had Jenna on board, I began to work with her. I have to say that she was the easiest woman that I’ve ever trained. Since she had been modeling for years, she had the poise and carriage of a polished lady. Jenna knew how to walk, and how to use her eyes and facial expressions to convey certain emotions. Most of my work was spent teaching her how to speak, and adjusting her mindset from being one that looked for a man to please her, to one of a woman whose only desire was to please her client. Jenna Bobbit was going to be excellent.