Murderville 2: The Epidemic (17 page)

“Omega, how are things in the motherland?” Po asked.

“Aghh, they are good, Po. You know I’m fostering good relations with our current allies and always establishing new ones. But I don’t want to shoot the shit, Po, so I’m going to ask you directly, what is going on with you and the local gangs in L.A.?”

“Things got messy, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. I’ve got everything under control,” Po replied.

“I don’t doubt that, Po. I know that you are more than capable of running your own ship, but I need you to understand how valuable you are to my organization. You are my only American connection. Which means you have the best plug of all the hustlers in the States,” Omega said with an arrogant smile. “Why are you even engaging in a street beef? Leave those crumbs to the fucking Mexicans while you eat at the big table.”

“That’s the difference between me and every other nigga with the product. They forget about the roots. I’m at the top of the tree, and I’m grateful for that, but I still water my roots. There is too much money in the streets for me to just ignore them. I want every dollar,” Po stated.

Omega sighed and paused to choose his words carefully. “The loss that we just took, we cannot take again. It draws attention to me, and it’s money that can’t be recouped. You need to pull out of the street shit. We don’t have time to fight a war over your ego. You and Castro are in two different leagues now. You no longer shoot at the same baskets.
You are above selling to fiends. Focus on moving weight. We are all in a good situation and stand to make a lot of money if we play it smart. Dead the beef with the Mexicans, and I will handle the catastrophe that happened at the port. This isn’t a request, Po,” Omega ordered.

Po had to bite his inner cheek to stop himself from responding with harsh words. He knew that Omega was right, but his ego was in overdrive, and he wanted to destroy Castro. Omega was far removed from the streets, but Po had just come off of them. It would take time and a lot of hard lessons to give Po the refinement and tact that Omega already possessed.

“It’s dead,” Po said.

“Good. Let him have a few blocks, Po. Meanwhile, you take over the world. Keep the big picture in mind. We’ll catch up another time. I’ll have your next shipment out in two weeks,” Omega stated.

Po ended the Skype session and slammed his laptop shut in frustration. He knew what he had to do, but just the thought of standing down put a bitter taste in his mouth. He had never backed down from anyone in his life, and it would be a huge, yet necessary, pill to swallow.

*    *    *

Two months had passed since the last time Liberty had seen Po. While she was being initiated into the right circles in Sierra Leone he had been establishing a solid hold in the streets. She knew that he was busy and the last thing that she wanted to do was crowd him, but she missed him terribly. Being away from him for so long confirmed that
she had it bad for Po, and as she walked into the airport she knew that it was time to return to L.A. What she had assumed was a rebound fling seemed to be growing into much more. It wasn’t the romance or sex that she craved; she missed his friendship most. He was the first person who had made her smile after A’shai’s death. Po made living without A’shai easier.

Scarlett’s death had left Po with half a heart and losing A’shai had left her equally pained. Together, they possessed a whole heart, and although it had been hurt, bruised, and abandoned, it still worked. She couldn’t wait to see him. The flight was mind-numbing, and her impatience played a torturous joke on her until she finally touched down. Sitting still for such a long time was the worst type of cruelty to Liberty. Being in Africa had rejuvenated her. She had transformed into a different young woman: one who was ready to face anything ahead of her.

She exited the plane and pulled her Bvlgari sunglasses down over her eyes as she headed toward baggage claim. Butterflies filled her stomach.
Did he miss me like I missed him? Will he be happy to see me?
she pondered as she went down the escalator. Through the crowd, she saw a man holding a sign that read her name. She waved her hand slightly and got his attention. She immediately knew that it was one of Omega’s men. He was dark as night, and Liberty noticed that his neck was on a constant swivel as he surveyed his surroundings.

He nodded his head at her, and she approached him.

“Po couldn’t make it, but I was instructed to retrieve
you and your things, and then bring you directly to him.”

Liberty nodded and pointed to the conveyer belt. “My luggage is over there.”

He tipped a skycap to carry her things, and then led her to the Maybach that had now become Po’s preference when it came to transportation. Liberty climbed inside and the goon got up front with the driver before they pulled away.

Liberty didn’t know what to expect when she saw Po. If life had taught her anything it was that nothing was guaranteed. She closed her eyes and saw A’shai’s face behind her lids. That was the only place where he still lived, in her memory, and she tried as best as she could to keep him alive without becoming stuck in despair. But every day she lived and with every breath that she took, she was forced to accept his death more and more. She was coming to terms with her new life. A’shai was her past, and he would always be a part of her, but she was ready to bury yesterday’s strife and focus on tomorrow’s survival.
Don’t feel guilty for living. That’s what he wanted you to do,
she thought. She was in her emotions, and the ringing of her cell phone brought her back to reality.

Liberty smiled when she recognized Po’s number.

“How was your flight?” he asked.

“Long,” she replied.

Po looked around the Beverly Hills estate that he had purchased. He knew that if it weren’t for Liberty he would have never planted roots in L.A., but he wanted to create stability for her. This house was his way of showing her that
he wanted to build a future with her. He couldn’t wait until she saw it. “Well, I have a big surprise for you. Hurry to me, ma. Where are you now?” Po asked, eager to see her face.

“We’re passing Sepulvada and 96th,” she said as she noticed the street sign out of her window.

RAT TAT TAT TAT TAT TAT TAT

Out of nowhere bullets flew through the car. “Aghh!” Liberty screamed as she hit the floor, dropping her phone and covering her ears. Glass rained down on her as gunfire erupted all around her. Liberty didn’t know what to do. She had no time to react. All she could do was cower in fear and plug her ears as the madness around her ensued. Her pulse raced as terror gripped her body. “Please, God, please, please,” she whispered as she balled her body into a tight knot, praying not to get hit.

Finally the firing ceased, and she heard the sound of screeching tires as the shooters sped away.

Liberty’s body trembled, and she crawled to open the door. Delirious, she could barely regain her composure to crawl from the car. Blood covered her face and hands from the minor cuts she had received from the windows being blown out.

She heard the sound of coughing coming from the front seat and turned to see that Omega’s worker was struggling to breathe.

“Oh my God . . . oh, God . . . hold on, just hold on,” she said, not realizing that she was screaming in panic at the top of her lungs. She touched the blood-filled hole in his chest, trying to stop the bleeding, but her fingers just drowned in redness.

She glanced over at the driver, who was slumped onto the steering wheel, the weight of his head causing the horn to blare. The man’s breathing was erratic as he began to choke on his own blood.

“T-tell Po . . . It was Castro,” he managed to say before his body shuddered and his time on this earth came to a tragic end. In the distance, Liberty heard sirens and climbed from the car. A small group of gawkers had gathered around her. It felt as though a thousand sets of eyes were on her, but no one offered to help. Her legs were like Jell-O, and they barely kept her standing as she put both hands on the side of her head in distress.

The police finally arrived and approached her cautiously. “Ma’am, are you hurt?” one of the officers asked.

All Liberty could do was shake her head in response. She was too traumatized to do anything else, and she wasn’t answering any questions until Po was by her side.

THIRTEEN

PO WAS SO LIVID THAT HE COULDN’T
contain himself. He stood at the long, rectangular table with both hands planted firmly against the Brazilian wood. His head hung low in contemplation as Rocko, Ayo, and the rest of his goons sat around the table, waiting for him to speak. No one dared interrupt the deafening silence that took over the room. The tension was thick as everyone stared at Po.

“Find this mu’fucka and bring him to me. I want his blocks shut down. I want everybody in his crew tied up. I want him burying his bitch and his kids by the end of the week. Anything that has to do with Castro and Los Familia is to be destroyed,” Po ordered. He spoke calmly, but the bulging vein in the center of his forehead revealed his anger. Rocko had known his man long enough to know not to take Po’s calm demeanor as a weakness. Po was past the point of loud charades. It was
the still before the storm, and he was about to make the city bleed.

“You know we’ve got eyes on us right now. We go anywhere near Castro’s territory, and the
LAPD
becomes a problem. The mu’fucka is protected by them or something,” Rocko said.

“If they on his payroll we’ll give ’em a mysterious raise,” Po answered. “Then they’ll be on
my
payroll.”

“I don’t know how he got the police on his team, but I don’t think they choosing sides. Word on the street is he in like Flynn with them mu’fuckas. He won’t be easy to get to,” Rocko said matter-of-factly while shaking his head.

“Find a way. I don’t care how you get to him. He’s become a thorn in my side. Niggas think I’m playing out here. Get rid of him, this time for good,” Po demanded.

Po left the room, leaving the men to their thoughts as he climbed the stairs to his home. He was so angry that his head pounded with fury and his nostrils flared as he thought of how badly things could have turned out. He had lost one woman whom he cared for due to the streets. He wasn’t prepared to lose another. Just the thought of it threatened to send him over the edge. He stopped outside of his bedroom and took a deep breath before opening the door. The recessed lighting was low, and he could see Liberty’s silhouette as she lay in the bed. Not wanting to disturb her sleep he began to close the door until her voice stopped him.

“Don’t leave,” she said.

Po entered and walked over to her. She stared at the wall as tears fell from her eyes and onto the satin pillow. “I don’t want that life, Po. I’ve been around death and violence all my life. I don’t want that to be all I know. I want to live carefree. I want to be happy,” she said. She sat up and leaned against the headboard as she looked him in the eyes.

“What happened today shouldn’t have happened. I give you my word, ma, on my life, that you will never be put in danger again,” Po assured.

“I won’t let it happen again, Po. If I ever feel unsafe with you, then I will leave. Someone gave their life for me to be able to live mine. I can’t squander it trying to play wifey to a drug dealer,” Liberty said.

Her words flew at him like daggers, causing him to become defensive. “A’shai was a drug dealer,” Po shot back. “All of a sudden that’s not good enough for you?” His voice was low, and she could hear that she had slighted him.

“You can be so much more than a hustler, Po. I just wonder if you know it. I don’t want this to be my life forever,” she whispered. “I don’t want to be afraid to turn over the ignition in my car every morning. I don’t want to fear for my future children, thinking they’ll get snatched and tied up somewhere behind some beef that you have!” she defended.

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

“I do,” Liberty replied.

“You’re safe with me. I would never let that happen.
I want you in my life, ma, but if the day ever comes when you feel like you need to walk away from me I will understand, and I will make sure that you’re taken care of when you leave. You won’t ever want for anything, ma . . . with or without me, but I hope you’ll give me a chance to make this up to you,” Po said sincerely. “You don’t have to make your choice now. It’s been a long day for you. Just rest.”

Po kissed her forehead, and then walked out of the room, his chest hollow with the feeling that she may leave. If she walked away from him, his next best chance at happiness would disappear before his eyes.

The next morning Po sat in his dining room reading the morning paper when Liberty entered the room. She smiled sheepishly at him while standing in the doorway.

“I’m not leaving,” she said.

“I know,” he replied. Outwardly he appeared confident, but inside, he was grateful for her presence. Now all he had to do was make good on his promise and send Castro to meet his Maker. She stood awkwardly and looked around the large minimansion, taking in the new home for the first time.

“I like the house,” she said.

“Good, because it’s your job to fill it up with furniture, with love, with memories,” Po said, causing her to smile. He nodded to the chair at his left. “Take a seat.”

She joined him at the table, and he reached over to squeeze her hand gently. He slid a black velvet box across the table to her before returning to his reading.
Liberty stopped breathing when she saw the box. Her eyes shot up and met his. He could see the terror set into her bones.

“Relax, it’s not a ring,” he said with a smirk.

Liberty breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God,” she whispered as she placed a hand over her heart.

Po couldn’t help but chuckle. “It would have been that bad?” he asked with a charming smile.

She gave him a friendly scowl and replied, “Of course not. You just took me by surprise. We’re not . . . I mean . . . I don’t want to get married . . . we barely . . .”

“Just open the box,” Po said, easing her nervousness.