Eve (16 page)

This part of the plan had almost been scrapped. They had pillaged the vic's house for all its valuables and were sure to get a good chunk of change from the fence. Robbing the young hustler himself really wasn't necessary at that point, but Eve figured all or nothing. Now she found herself slithering through the Bed Stuy underworld.

She was surprised to see that the inside of the club wasn't that crowded. The bouncers were probably making people wait so they could claim they were overcrowded and charge more money. This was something that worked in Eve's favor. She would be able to retrieve her package without drawing much attention. She parked herself and waited for the bartender to notice her uplifted hand.

The girl pouring the drinks was a shapely young lady with a round face. Her spandex top advertised her large breasts to everyone who had eyes. She swaggered over to Eve and leaned in so that her cleavage would be exposed.

The bartender, asked “What you drinking?”

“Gimmie a shot of Henny,” Eve said, trying to sound as manly as possible.

The bartender winked at Eve and strutted over to fix her drink. Before she could get to pouring, one of the staff caught her attention and whispered something in her ear. Eve figured she could get what she had to get and come back for her drink. With her order already placed, she ambled over to the bathroom.

When she opened the bathroom door, a cloud of smoke hit her in the face. A few guys were standing around, smoking or using the urinals, but no one spared Eve a second look. She walked over to the mirror to give herself the onceover. She was wearing a black leather blazer over a red button-up. She had quite the time tying her breasts down so they didn't bulge through the material. The matching leather pants were two sizes too big, so as not to show too much of her ass. As usual, her braids hung down her back from beneath her black fitted cap. She looked like one of the boys.

Using the mirror, as opposed to turning around, she scanned the stall doors. On the third stall from the door, she found what she was looking for. A “Live on Lenox” sticker was plastered to the closed stall door. Without attracting too much attention, Eve made her way to the stall.

To her disappointment, it was occupied. She went back over to the mirror, started fixing her braids, and tried to wait out the occupant. Fifteen minutes had passed and still nothing. People had started to look at her funny, so she knew she had to make a move. Getting fed up, she knocked on the stall door.

“Occupied!” someone shouted from inside the stall. Eve waited another minute or two and knocked again. “I said, occupied!” the same voice shouted.

“I need to get in there,” Eve said, trying to sound masculine.

“Use another stall,” the occupant responded.

“Look, I'll give you fifty dollars to let me use this stall,” Eve offered. After another minute, the door sprung open. A Black dude in a pink button-up and matching cap came out of the stall, followed by a skinny white dude. From the inflammation around the white dude's nose, Eve guessed what they were up to. Eve handed the Black dude the fifty and closed herself inside the stall.

She slammed the seat down and dropped her pants to her ankles, giving anyone who might be looking the impression that she was using the bathroom. She reached behind the toilet and found just what she was looking for. She ripped the wad of tape loose and came up with a .25, just where Keisha said it would be.

Keisha had come down to the club earlier that day to plant the gun. She was fucking one of the bouncers, so it wasn't hard for her to get into the club before it opened. She gave him a shot of head as payment and went about her business. She was going through all this just to set a nigga up. Eve made a note of how dangerous an enemy Keisha could be if it came down to it.

 

Butter and Felon arrived to pick up Steve right on time. To their surprise, he wasn't alone. There was an Italian cat with him, sporting a black ponytail. Steve informed him that Sal was one of Carlo's men and had to go along. Butter didn't like it, but Felon just shrugged. They parked Butter's car and climbed into the truck, with Steve behind the wheel.

On the way to the pier the only sound was the radio playing low. Each man was locked in his own thoughts. Steve watched the road, while Sal sat in the back next to Butter, playing with a switchblade. Felon was going over the plan again, while Butter tried to keep his eyes on everyone at once. After a few miles of driving, the pier came into view.

“When we get in there, let me do all the talking,” Felon said to the occupants of the car.

“Who made you boss?” Sal asked.

“Carlo, that's who,” Steve spoke up. “Sal, be cool and let Felon handle this. We're just the muscle.”

Sal didn't like the idea of taking orders from Blacks, but if this is what Carlo wanted, this is what it would be. The truck pulled up to a wire fence and flashed its high beams twice. There was a brief pause and the gate began to slide open. Steve navigated the truck to the back of a storage area and parked next to an identical one. Five Spanish cats got out of the twin and awaited their guest. Felon got out and motioned for the other three to stay in the car.

“You Felon?” asked a Spanish kid with a curly Afro.

“You Tito?” Felon shot back.

“Who your friends?” Tito asked, without bothering to answer Felon's question.

“Those my peoples,” Felon responded shortly.

“Why they no get out?”

“Same reason you probably got niggaz stashed all throughout this bitch.” Felon looked around cautiously. “Come on, papi, you ain't here to do business with them. I'm the man to see.”

One of the men mumbled something in Spanish and Tito waved him off. “You tell them to get out of the car, or we no deal,” Tito demanded.

“What kind of shit is this?” Felon asked. “You trying to pull something?”

“We no pull nothing. We just wanna see who we're dealing with. Tell them get out and we deal. No trouble.”

Felon stared Tito down for a long minute without moving. He didn't like the way it was going down, but he held his face. Tito and his boys could just be downright paranoid, or it could be a setup. Felon shrugged it off, telling himself that the Spanish crew wouldn't be stupid enough to cross Carlo. Even if they did try something, he knew he and his partner were strapped. And even if he didn't show it, Felon had a good idea that Sal was holding too. He looked over his shoulder and motioned for the others to join him.

One by one they filed out of the truck. Steve posted against the truck while Sal flanked Tito's crew. Butter came and stood by Felon's side, with the shotgun tucked in the arm of his full-length leather jacket.

“So we gonna do this or what?” Felon shrugged.

“Okay,” Tito nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Sorry about that. Can't be too careful. We do business now.”

Felon motioned to Steve, who popped the rear of the truck. One of Tito's boys, followed by Sal, went to inspect the cases carrying the money. After a long moment he gave Tito the nod.

Felon held the keys out to Tito, but snatched them back when he reached. “I believe you have something for me?”

Tito made a face and handed Felon the keys. He tossed them to Butter, who went to inspect the cargo. At first Butter couldn't find anything, but one of Tito's men showed him how to work the false floor. Butter quickly sifted through the packages and nodded in approval to Felon. Without another word, the two crews switched trucks. Felon and his people waited a full fifteen minutes after Tito had gone to pull out of the lot and hit the southbound traffic. Each man wore a broad smile all the way to the Bronx. The deal had gone off without a hitch, but Felon was just barely forcing down the lump that had crawled into his throat.

 

The crowd was noticeably thicker when Eve came out of the bathroom. The music was blaring and bodies were rubbing against each other, making the temperature in the club thirty degrees higher. After a bit of shoving, Eve was finally able to make her way back to the bar.

The bartender noticed Eve and abandoned her conversation. “Hey, you're back.” She smiled. “I thought you left.”

“Sorry about that. Some things take a little longer than others,” Eve responded with a wink. Eve wasn't into girls, but paying the role of a man, it would've been strange if she hadn't. The bartender placed the drink down with a piece of paper attached to the bottom of the glass.

“It's on the house.” She smiled. “Listen, I get off around three-thirty. Holla at me.” The bartender gave Eve another seductive look and waggled her shapely ass back down to the other end of the bar.

The night dragged on, and Eve still hadn't spotted her mark. She was beginning to wonder if she should abandon the mission when she spotted Keisha on the dance floor. They made eye contact, but neither made a move toward the other. She locked eyes with Eve and motioned toward the area near the stage. A slim kid, wearing a thick chain, was talking to a point guard from the New York Knicks. Eve nodded at Keisha, confirming he had been tagged.

Eve would've liked to watch from the bar, but the bartender kept coming on to her, so she decided to change her position. When the entertainment went to take the stage, Eve moved to a dark corner. Everyone else watched the show, but Eve kept her eye on Paul. He and Keisha sat at a private table, where she grinded on his lap and made sure he got roaring drunk.

About halfway through the show, Paul made his way toward the bathroom. Eve decided now would be as good a time as any to make her move. Just about everyone in the club had their eyes glued to the stage, so the bathroom should be relatively empty. Even if it wasn't, this would probably be her best chance. She just hoped he had enough valuables on him to make it worth-while. Before Eve went in the bathroom, she stopped at the bar and got a bottle of water.

The bathroom was empty except for Paul and one other man. Eve held the water at her side and took the urinal next to Paul. She stuck her hand inside her pants and put the tip of the bottle through her zipper. Slowly she began to pour the water out, giving off the appearance that she was peeing. She spared a sideways glance at Paul and saw that he was having trouble focusing. When the other man finally left the bathroom, Eve made her move.

“Don't fucking move,” she said, placing the pistol to his head.

“Fuck is this shit?” Paul slurred. “You know who I am?”

“Yeah, a nigga about to get robbed. Come up off all that shit!”

“Muthafucka!” Paul cursed. He tried to examine Eve's face, but she forced his head down with the pistol. He reluctantly handed her his chain. She watched him very carefully as he took off his watch and rings. The door came open, drawing Eve's attention for a split second. That was all Paul needed.

He caught Eve with a left, causing her to stagger back. He tried to advance the attack, but she was ready for him. She blocked with her left arm and clocked him in the temple with the gun. Blood trickled down his face, but he held his footing. As tough as he came, she came tougher. A solid left put him on his back.

“Punk-ass nigga,” Eve said, wiping a speck of blood from her lip. She knelt down next to Paul and began digging through his pockets. All in all, she lifted four thousand in cash and several pieces of jewelry. With a triumphant grin Eve stuffed her take into her pants pockets. She gave him one last kick for good measure and slipped from the bathroom.

When Eve rejoined the party, the show was wrapping up. The whole crowd was going crazy, but Eve hardly noticed. She was too busy trying to get to the door. Getting through the crowd was like trying to navigate through pea soup. People were bumping and shouting as the rapper went into his last set. She had just about made it to the door when she heard the shots.

 

Paul was standing on shaky legs in the middle of the crowd. One of his boys rushed over to see what was going on and he pointed in Eve's direction. The man drew a gun and pointed it at her back. For all of the planning she had done with Keisha, neither of them had factored in another gun. As soon as she ducked, the first shot whistled over her head.

Everyone ducked and tried to rush the door. It was all she could do to keep from getting trampled. Using the chaos as cover, she made a dash for the exit. She looked up just in time to see the same guy who had come into the bathroom pointing the bouncers in her direction. If she had the time she would've put one in the snitch, but time wasn't on her side. With the rush of people there was no way she could make it out before either Paul's people or the bouncers got to her. She needed an exit, quick.

Eve held her pistol in the air and fired off two shots. Everyone within ten feet of her scattered like roaches. When a hole opened up she broke for the fire door. One of the bouncers tried to grab her, but she avoided him by ducking around a guy who was trying to shield his girl from the crowd. She lucked out with the first bouncer, but the second one got a grip on her jacket.

She tried to break loose, but the mammoth guard had a grip of steel. The whole security force was coming at Eve from one direction while Paul and his people approached from the other. She fought against the bouncer, but he easily outweighed her by over a hundred pounds. As he drew her in closer, she saw her impending capture. With no other options, she abandoned her jacket, leaving him clutching leather.

Eve scrambled on her hands and knees to the door. A good Samaritan blocked Eve's path to freedom. Apparently he had never heard the old saying about a caged rat. Using all her strength, and the barrel of the gun, she knocked him clean out and burst through the doors to freedom.

Legs pumping and muscles aching, she darted up back streets and across avenues. Her chest heaved as she kept a steady pace through the bowels of Bedford Stuyvesant, heading toward East New York. Had things gone according to plan, she would've been able to speed-walk the few blocks to where she had a rental car parked. But things hadn't gone according to plan, had they? Around Atlantic Avenue and an irrelevant side street she wouldn't remember the day after, Eve was able to catch a cab.