“He dragged you into it; now I'm offering you an out. Let me go and walk away,” Macy stated.
“I can't just walk away. If Case or Harlo find out I just let you go, I'm dead anyway,” Jordan said. “Ain't no running from a nigga like Case. If I just disappear, I'm gonna look hot and he's gonna come after me. If I cross you or I cross Case ... either way I'm still fucked. I need your help, man. I want to let you go, but I can't make it look like I went against the grain.”
“The game is called self-preservation. Your homeboy and homegirl ... they're dead. These ropes can only hold one man. I've got goons for days,” Macy stated. “Look, you make it look however you need to, as long as I'm walking out of here,” Macy replied.
“Nobody's gonna blame you for playing it smart and saving yourself. You don't have much time to decide. When my shooters come through, they're not gonna be asking questions, and my offer for your safety will expire.”
Jordan went to the stairs and looked up to make sure that no one had come back into the house. “Look, I'm going to let you go, but I need your word that you won't send nobody after me. I didn't want shit to do with this.”
Macy nodded his head. “You have my word. As a matter of fact, you need to be working for me anyway. With Case you'll get nowhere fast. Untying these ropes and coming to play on my team will be the smartest decision you ever make.”
“Okay, okay,” Jordan mumbled as he thought of a plan that would make him look innocent on both sides. “Look, I'm going to untie you, but I need you to help me make it look like you got loose on your own.” Jordan took the clip out of the 9 mm gun he held. “I want you to hit me with the gun and rough me up a little bit so that they will think you overpowered me,” he explained.
Macy nodded and said, “I got it. Just hurry up and untie me before they get back. I'm gonna remember this, fam.”
Jordan hurried and bent down to free Macy. He placed the empty pistol in Macy's lap as he feverishly freed Macy's injured hand from the tight binds. “You're losing a lot of blood. You're going to need to go to the hospital,” Jordan observed as he worked as quickly as possible. He continued to check over his shoulder to make sure that Aries and Harlo had not returned.
As soon as Jordan released his good hand, Macy grabbed the gun off of his lap and smashed it into Jordan's head. Stunned, Jordan fell backward to the ground. Macy pulled the other ropes from his hand and attacked Jordan mercilessly, breaking his face with the steel of the pistol. He hit him repeatedly, until he was defenseless, and then reached into Jordan's pocket for the clip. He popped it into the gun, cocked it back and ...
BOOM!
Without hesitation, he blew a hole in Jordan's head.
BOOM! BOOM!
And he put two in his chest just because.
Macy never had any intentions of putting Jordan down with him. He was willing to say anything to get himself out of the predicament. Not only did Jordan disgust him for participating in his kidnapping, but the young thug was weak-minded and didn't stand behind his own decisions. Jordan was disloyal and was willing to jump ship as soon as trouble presented itself. He was the worst kind of street nigga there wasâindecisive, incompetent, and easily shaken. Macy could never invite someone like him on his team. He only surrounded himself with thorough individuals, and Jordan was weak.
Macy felt no guilt about ending the young boy's life.
I did him a favor by killing him quick. Once Case found out I was free, he would have done much worse,
Macy thought, knowing exactly how his old comrade got down. He dug into Jordan's pockets and removed a set of keys and a cell phone before creeping up the stairs. He let the gun lead the way as he made his way out of the house.
Chapter Eighteen
Macy dragged his injured arm, grimacing in pain as he rushed out of the house. He saw the Acura TL sitting in the driveway and quickly got inside. He ensured that the safety was off of the gun and placed it in the passenger seat before pulling away. The tires squealed as he pulled off recklessly, trying to get as far away from the trap house as possible. He picked up his phone and dialed Big E.
“Hello?”
Macy frowned when he didn't recognize the voice that picked up.
“Yeah, put E on the phone,” Macy stated abruptly.
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Big E sat behind the interrogation table sweating bullets. He was now working hand in hand around the clock with the authorities trying to capture Macy. He had hoped that Macy wouldn't call again, but as soon as the phone rang, he knew that the time for the ultimate betrayal had come. Big E's guilt ate away at him, but his back was against the wall. He had started the process of double-crossing his close friend, and there was no turning back now. He was loyal to Macy and loved him like a brother, but he had been caught red-handed with a dead white woman in the trunk of his car. The City of Angels was going to turn devilish on him and fry him if he didn't talk his way out of the situation.
“It's show time. You need to find out Macy's exact location so that we can pick him up,” the detective whispered as he muted the line and held out the cell phone for Edris. “I know this is stressful, but you need to sound as normal as possible. Your life depends on it.”
Edris wanted to tell the police to go to hell, but he was no longer in a position to be cocky. He took the phone, all the while shaking his head in disgrace.
If the shoe was on the other foot, Macy would do the same,
he thought. Even his mind was playing tricks on him. The police had drilled that same phrase into his head for so many hours that Big E had started to repeat it. He was using anything he could to justify his actions.
Macy had never treated Edris negatively, and embraced him as family. There was no excuse for the snake move that Big E was pulling, and deep down he knew it, but he was a desperate man and he was trapped. He had his own family to think of, and as the face of his wife flashed through his mind, he felt burdened by his position in the streets. It was true that he had a responsibility to Macy and that he had stepped into the game willingly, but it was also true that he had a responsibility to his wife at home. His family had to come first, but it didn't make what he was about to do any easier. He wished that things could have played out differently, but this was the hand that Edris had been dealt. He was just playing it the best way he knew how.
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A long silence filled the line as Macy waited impatiently for Edris to come to the phone. He found it extremely odd that someone else had answered in the first place. In all the years that Macy had known Edris, he had never allowed anyone to answer on his behalf. That line was secure and untraceable. Macy had ensured that what was spoken between him and Big E remained confidential. He made a mental note to get on Big E for allowing anyone else access to the phone.
Finally Big E came to the phone. “Macy, where are you? I've got that drug money for you,” Big E stated.
Macy frowned at his tone, noticing a slight nervousness in his friend's voice. “What?” he stated, disapproving of how recklessly Big E was talking.
“Where are you? I can come to you right now. I killed the bitch that robbed Boomer before you could do it,” Big E stated. Macy didn't like how anxious Edris sounded, and a hollow pit filled his stomach. He hoped that the gut feeling of betrayal that he had gotten was wrong, but deep down he knew what was up.
“I don't know what you're talking about, E, but I'll see you around,” Macy stated. He couldn't hide the hurt in his voice. Big E had been his man a hundred grand, and now he was state's evidence. Without saying another word he hung up the cell.
Fuck! Everything is out of control. I know Edris is caught up with the police. Stand tall, my nigga. Don't shut me down because of your fuck-up! Shit is probably all in the media,
Macy thought, knowing that once reporters got word of what was going on, things would become hectic for him.
Macy quickly flicked on the radio, turning to the local station that reported the news.
“Mayor Macy Sigel is wanted for the murder of his son. The mayor disappeared days ago, just before the police received a tip from an informant that Mayor Sigel was responsible for the shooting of his eighteen-year-old son. Citizens are asked to be on the lookout for the mayor, and if he is spotted, the police ask that you call 911 immediately with his whereabouts... .”
Macy turned off the radio knowing that the only person who could have given the police that information was Big E. He had turned snitch and had given the police the smoking gun that they needed to prosecute Macy.
I've got to get to my paper and get the fuck out of here,
he thought as he headed toward his house.
Macy rushed to his side of town, being careful not to draw any attention to himself. His arm felt like a dead limb as the blood crusted around the bullet wound, but he ignored the pain. The first thing on his agenda was to get to his safe.
There was no way Macy could beat a case when the entire city was behind him. He was lucky to even be elected. The city of L.A. had built him up, and now it was time to tear him down. It was the way of the land. No one in La-La land got to live in a dream world forever. Macy was in a nightmare that he couldn't wake up from.
He pulled onto his block and immediately hunched down in his seat when he noticed the unmarked police cars parked on his street. They would have been barely noticeable to the other residents, but to someone like Macy they stuck out like a sore thumb. He was too seasoned not to pick up on the presence of the LAPD.
“Fuck!” he whispered as he pulled into one his neighbor's driveways and turned around. He checked the rearview mirror religiously as he pulled off, hoping that he hadn't been spotted. Macy was at a dead end, and without any funds he was helpless. He was in pain, and for the first time since he was a young kid hustling ounces, he didn't know what to do. His back was against the wall, and the fact that he was injured badly only complicated things further.
I've got to stop this bleeding,
he thought. This was the first time since becoming a public figure that Macy hated the attention. Everyone in the city knew who he was. It was going to be hard for him to go anywhere unnoticed.
I need help. I can't get out of this on my own,
he admitted to himself. He grabbed the cell phone that he had stolen from Jordan and dialed an old friend, Matthew Hayes, one of California's state senators.
“Senator Hayes' office,” the receptionist answered.
“Yes, this is Hank Dillard out of Washington. I need to speak with Senator Hayes immediately,” Macy stated, pretending to be one of Matthew's golfing partners who he had become acquainted with over the years. Macy knew that Matthew would never refuse a call from his dear old friend.
“Hank, what can I do for you?” Matthew stated jovially.
“Matthew, listen to me closely, because my entire life is depending on you right now,” Macy stated.
He heard the unsure pause from Matthew. Silence sometimes could speak volumes, and before the senator could hang up, Macy added, “Please. Hear me out.”
“Macy, where are you? You're wanted by the entire fucking city,” Matthew said. “How the hell did you get yourself into this mess?”
Macy shook his head knowing that he was in dire straits. “I need help, Matthew. I need some money. Enough to get me out of town,” Macy stated.
“I can't, Macy,” the senator replied in a low whisper.
“Why can't you, Matt? Huh? You owe me. I've kept a lot of secrets for you over the years; a lot of secrets that could have ruined you. Remember that hooker down on Sunset? I remember her, so I know you do. It was your dick she was sucking on, right?” Macy asked harshly, pulling cards that he knew were wrong and crossing his boundaries.
He was playing dirty, bringing up things that he had promised to never speak of again. Macy felt like he was going down, and he needed help from those who he had helped over the years. Nothing was off-limits at this point.
“Yeah, I remember, Macy,” the senator replied with an exasperated sigh. “But you are hot right now. This thing with you and your son is all over the national news. I can't be seen with you and you know it. It's not personal, kid. I've embraced you since you were first elected. Hell, I endorsed you when you were running, but this thing that you've gotten mixed up in crosses the line. I'm just protecting my career.”
Macy sympathized with Matthew. The aging senator was a legend in California. He had been in politics for thirty years and had welcomed Macy, showing him the ropes. Macy had learned a lot from his old friend and had garnered many valuable connections because of him, but the one lesson that he remembered most was self-preservation.
“You owe me, Matthew, and now it's time to pay up. I'm not trying to force your hand, but if I have to I will,” Macy said, sending a blatant threat.
The senator sighed deeply because he realized that he was in bed with the devil. “You can't come here, but I'll send someone to you. Locker 287 at the train station. Find it and there will be seventy-five thousand dollars inside. That should be enough to help you get out of town. I can't risk hand delivering it to you,” Matthew stated.
“I understand,” Macy replied.
“Macy, this will be the one and only time I extend this type of favor to you. I refuse to let a punk like you hold anything over my head. Consider this the price I pay for your silence. I wish you luck, but do not call this office again,” he said.
“How quickly can you get the money delivered?” Macy asked, disregarding the senator's statement.
“Give me two hours,” he replied.
Macy hung up the phone feeling slightly more confident. Seventy-five thousand wasn't much, but it was enough to help him get by temporarily. Once he was out of California he could come up with more cash, but first he had to ensure his freedom and get as far away from L.A. as possible.