Authors: Allen Takerra
Duval's dark piercing eyes widened with slight shock before he began to stroke his goatee and nod. He then leaned his tall and lean caramel frame back in his seat, keeping a blank expression. His distinguished, GQ appearance was not as intimidating as his reputation at all. Had anyone bumped into him on the street, he would probably be confused for a lawyer, doctor, or even retired model with his Caribbean features on display in his keen nose, sharp cheekbones, and wavy black hair streaked with strands of gray. However contrary to his handsome looks, he was a gangster.
“
Now let me say this first, Mr. Slim. I don't, for one, take kindly to profanity, especially when it's used in conversation directed at me.”
Slim snickered but then gave a slight head nod and loosed up his tense body language, however his face remained stern. Duval continued.
“
Next, I will explain. My discomfort...does not lie in your performance in our business dealings, if that's what you are getting at. No,” he said, sitting up straight and leaning forward on the metal desk. The warehouse was bare, and quiet, minus the sparse henchmen decorating the perimeter. Duval clasped his hands together and stared at Slim directly. “My discomfort, comes from me being
uncomfortable
, with the type of man that you are, period.” Slim remained stone-faced as Duval proceeded.
“
You see, Mr. Slim...
character
....character says a lot about a man. It shows how a person conducts themselves. And it always gives way to the things you may learn about a person later down the line, how they can and will carry themselves in certain situations. Both business and personal.”
Slim thought of all his recent actions and tried to gather what Duval could be getting at. Was it one of his workers? He treated them pretty fairly. Well, besides this one kid who had been short on the money recently and he had to make an example of him. He didn't kill youngin', he only roughed him up a bit. Was that it? Was youngin' talking or something?
He thought of how he interacted with Duval, had he said something that he didn't like, maybe someone had told Duval some bullshit that wasn't true? Slim shook his head in confusion.
“
Mr. Dupree, I don't-”
“
You're fucking Julez's wife?”
The question threw Slim off a bit. He swallowed hard before he countered.
“
I don't...” He let out a small chuckle before he continued. “I don't really see....how...how that should affect our business.”
Duval nodded understandably and then stood up, placing his hands in his black Versace slacks.
“
I know you don't. That's the problem, Mr. Slim. And it says a lot about your character.”
It was Slim's turn to nod, only he did so with a smirk on his face. To him, the whole situation was on some bitch shit. One thing should have nothing to do with the other. He couldn't believe that Julez had told his supplier to cut him off behind this shit. He couldn't believe that dude was actually considering it!
“
So let me get this straight,” Slim started, looking up at Duval. “You willing to cut off our business, all 'cause I'm laying pipe to somebody's bitch... that you
used
to supply. That nigga aint even in the game no more, so what's it to you? Yo Duval,” Slim stated, not opting for Mr. Dupree no longer. His level of respect for the man being knocked down a notch. “This is money at the end of the day. I aint gonna let nobody's emotions get in the way of mine. I'm finding it hard to believe that a man of your stature would let it interfere with yours.” Slim was perplexed. Duval smiled before responding.
“
Well you see Mr. Slim, that's the beauty of being at my
stature
, so to say. I don't
have
to work with anyone that I don't feel one hundred percent comfortable in doing so. Your money was peanuts to me. I told you in the beginning that this was a favor to Julez and I meant it. The man wanted you out of his house, he wanted you to be able to stand on your own, provide for your woman.” Duval brought his Gucci shoe up on the desk and leaned over and tied the thin black strings that had come undone. He wasted no time continuing his speech. “I also told you to remember who your friends were...but I see you paid no attention to my words. A man like you, who would snake a man under his very roof, no...I want no parts of you. This arrangement ...is terminated.”
Slim was vexed. His face tightened in anger not only from Duval's insults, but from the fact that his money was about to walk out of the door. Nowadays, with the way things were with the Feds and how hungry everyone was one the street, coming up on a good supplier was like hitting the lottery. It wasn't like he could go out on the street and start asking around on who had the best dope. He was fucked. He was sure he would eventually come up on something, but nine times out of ten, it would be some bullshit. Duval was his jackpot.
Before Slim could even try to think of anything else to say, Duval turned and began heading for the back entrance of the warehouse, his goons in tow. He turned abruptly and took one final look at a still seated Slim.
“
And just to let you know, the decision to cut you off was my own solely. I didn't find out about your ill-doings from Julez coming to me asking for this, if that's what you're thinking.” Duval made eye contact with Slim and could tell he didn't really believe him. It caused him to chuckle lightly before he finished.
“
Julez is my nephew. He is my deceased brother's... my
twin
deceased brother, Mickel's, first son. Julez is a Dupree by blood, only with his mother's last name. So you see Mr. Slim, you didn't fuck with business. You fucked with worse...you fucked with family.”
And with that, he headed out, the sound of his Gucci shoes clicking and echoing off of the warehouse walls.
Slim was still sitting there a minute later when he heard Duval's footsteps returning. Maybe he had forgotten something, maybe he had come back to make sure Slim was gone, or maybe Slim's prayer's were being answered and he was returning to tell Slim that he had changed his mind on his judgment of his
character
.
Either way, Slim was anxious to see the purpose of his retreat. He heard the footsteps near and then halt, and finally when he felt a pair of eyes burning onto him, he looked up. He realized it wasn't Duval in his presence.
“
Long time no see.”
Slim smirked before answering. He was thrown but played it cool.
“
Fuck you doing here?”
Julez let out a slight chuckle as he continued to stand stagnated, hands clasped behind his back.
“
Is that anyway to talk to the man who kept a roof over your punk ass head for six months, nigga?”
Slim shot him a challenging look as Julez threw his prior situation in his face. That was the weakest time of Slim's life but he had to let Julez know that he was no weak nigga.
“
Is that how you look at it, Julez? And all this time, I thought you were just being hospitable...sharing your home
and
your bitch, and providing me with in house pussy.”
Julez flinched in anger as his face tightened and before Slim could make a move, Julez pulled out the 45 that was tucked in his lower back and swiftly moved toward Slim pointing it sharply at his head.
“
You know, I was afraid your punk ass would say some slick shit like that. You never know when to fold, huh Slim? Never know when ya luck's run out.” As Julez walked up closer Slim tapped his fingers on his thigh preparing to inch toward his waist for his gun, that was right before he came to the realization that Duval's goons had patted him down and disarmed him prior to the meeting.
Fuck!
He thought to himself.
“
You see Slim...,” Julez continued, still aiming the gun for his head. “You may have fucked that bitch.” Julez wouldn't even give Noelle credit enough to call her
his
bitch anymore, let alone his wife. “You may have fucked her, even in my crib, but you could never be
me
, nigga. That's what this is all about. Ever since I was doing it you been wanting to walk in my shoes, and you know it. But you could never be the king... I controlled your money, and now, I control your destiny. You might have fucked Noe, but guess who's getting fucked in the end?”
Finger on trigger, Julez was ready for vengeance, but against his prior beliefs he had one last question. Usually he wasn't for last words, but this was personal. He had to know...
“
Did you hit Jordin?”
Slim, who was prepared for the bullet, was not prepared for that question at all.
“
Jordin?” He asked, his voice dripping with 'what the fuck?'
“
Yeah. Jordin,” Julez repeated. “Did you hit her?” He asked through clenched teeth, slitting his eyes, and wrapping his hands tight around the gun in anger. He would take even more pride in his death depending on the answer to that question. Slim could see his emotion and used it to his advantage.
“
Look, how I check my bitch is my business. Maybe you should take a lesson on how to check yours-”
Before Slim could finish the sentence, Julez pulled the trigger and sent a bullet whizzing out of the barrel in Slim's direction. Slim dropped instantly to the ground and then pushed the metal table up in towards Julez, sending it flying directly at him and throwing him off.
Slim made the split decision that if he was going to die, it wouldn't be easy. Obviously Julez had come to kill him, and with no gun, the only thing left to do was die...or run.
Julez regained his balance and aimed his weapon at a now swift Slim taking flight through the warehouse toward the front door.
“
You aint making it outta here, pussy!” Julez shouted, sending another silver bullet flying in his direction. The blast crashed into a steel barrel inches from Slim and sounded loudly through the desolate building. Slim ran fast and ducked, and then crouched behind the rows of barrels, seeing the light from the front entrance not too far around the corner.
He contemplated jumping up and breaking as he heard Julez's footsteps fast approaching. He knew Julez couldn't see him behind the tall steel barrels that held god knows what of Duval's, but he knew that once Julez got up close he would find him. He had to make a run for it.
When he heard Julez on the other end of the row of barrels, he knew he now had enough space and opportunity to actually get out alive, possibly. He jumped up and took quick flight and instantly felt a bullet rip through the flesh of his right thigh.
“
Arrrgggggghhhhh!!!!!”
Julez ran swiftly toward him, as Slim continued to limp toward the gated entrance, noticing the gate was still halfway up as Duval had left it. He could see the daylight, see his car parked right outside. Blood poured from him like a river stream but he continued to limp swiftly fighting against his pain. As Julez sent another round of bullets flying toward him, Slim ducked low almost at the gate.
Julez seeing his move, ran and pushed the large red button to send the steel gate down to the ground determined to not let him escape.
As the garage-like gate loudly made its way to the ground, diminishing the outside light, Slim turned and gave Julez one final look of defeat.
“
It's over bitch,” Julez told him, aiming and ready to take his final shot.
And with his finger on the trigger and the gate only inches from the ground, Julez caressed the trigger and took one final pull. The shot was so perfect, a bulls-eye to Slim's dome. However, nanoseconds before it reached him, Slim dropped and slid toward the gate in a rash decision like Jeter sliding into the home base plate. His lean body barely made it out as the gate came to a close, missing him only by a hair. But, to his avail, he had gotten away.
“
Fuck!” Julez screamed, knowing he wouldn't rest until Slim did.
***
The sound of dishes crashing loudly to the floor and breaking into pieces awoke Noelle out of her sleep. She was still on the couch, in her pajamas, and had nodded off peacefully there, temporarily forgetting her recent dismay. She jumped up and ran toward to the kitchen, seeing a frantic Slim rummaging through the cabinets.
“
Slim! What are you doing? The dishes!” She tip-toed softly around the kitchen island, careful not to step on any glass and she made her way toward him. She stopped abruptly at the sight.