The King Of The South (13 page)

“I didn’t say shit to her, King. Right now, she is a freaking non-factor. We need to clean this mess up. One of the things that made you so successful in the game is that you managed to remain under the radar of the authorities.”

“I got busted for assault, Ma. It will go away in a few days. Bolter will have it fixed, stop worrying.”

Red watched the video of the fight that had taken place at King’s club on the screen. He shook his head and slammed the laptop closed. He stood and walked out onto his patio. The Jacuzzi was at the right temperature. He was sore from playing basketball , so he stepped ginferly into the hot water and slowly descended into the whirlpool.

“How you doing, Red?” a man said as he walked over to the hot tub.

“Yo, what’s up, Officer?” Red responded to one of the many police officers who he supplied information to about what was going on in the streets.

Deshawn had been one of the first he ever cooperated with when he was busted years ago. His information had allowed Deshawn to rise through the ranks from being a uniformed officer to
a
detective. Deshawn had also helped Red’s rise on the street by taking out most of his competition, and even sometimes selling Red cocaine that had been recovered when those busts went down.

“Well, I’m trying to see what the fuck is taking you so long on handling the situation with this nigga, King
.
” Deshawn
said
angrily.

“Look man, I told you the nigga stay guarded up, and I got to make sure I cover myself. I’ll get to it when I can.” Red responded.

He was tired of Deshawn calling him every day about the same shit. Hell, he wanted King dead also, but Deshawn was taking this shit to the next level.

“Yeah, that’s what I figured.”

Deshawn laughed and stepped closer to the hot tub. He made sure that the hoodie covered his face at all times, but he wanted the security camera to catch everything he was about to do.

“Man, I said I got you. And why you sneaking around my spot anyway? It’s too damn late for all this. Damn, I am trying to relax before my girl gets home.”

“Red, you know I never really liked you. You not that smart
,
and I should have known that when I ask
ed y
ou to do this job for me. Since I knew there was already bad blood between the two of you, I thought offering you the chance to get rid of his ass and pick up his business would have got you going. But you know you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink. Anyway, shit has a way of working itself out, and I think I will handle King myself.” Deshawn said, laughing.

“Damn, you really got a hard on for that nigga.” Red said jokingly. “What he do to you? Fuck your girl?”

Deshawn’s vision became slightly blurry for a moment. He had to concentrate on his breathing and focus on Red’s face. As his vision cleared, Deshawn pulled out the gun that he had taken from the dumpster. He made sure the Rolex on his wrist was on display for the camera, and fired two shots. One shot hit Red in his left eye, and the other in his chest. Brain matter and blood sprayed back on the gun and the watch.

“Yeah nigga
,
he did.” Deshawn laughed and ran out the door towards the large wooden fence that enclosed the property, and dipped down the street into the dark.

He made sure he dropped the Rolex in the bushes. He had carefully removed a pin, making it look like the watch fell, due to an issue with the clasp. He threw the gun into some bushes a little further down and jogged to his car, which was three blocks over.

“Now how does it feel to be
King
?” Deshawn said, feeling higher than he had in a while.

__________

Carlton held Imani’s head and exploded down her throat.

“Fuck yeah! Yeah babe, swallow that shit!” Carlton yelled as he pulled her hair.

Imani winced as her scalp stretched from all of the tugging. He loosened his grip and wiped the tip of his dick across her lips. She smiled at him; she loved when he was satisfied.

He walked over to the couch and grabbed his underwear.

Imani slid off the bed, and kissed his back. “You leaving? I thought you were going to stay a couple of hours today.”

“Nah baby, I got some business to handle.”

Imani pouted and walked into the kitchen.

Carlton had recently rented this
place
for them, so they could get in some quick visits during the week, without exposing himself to going in and out of hotels. It was a one-bedroom apartment on the north side of Charlotte. She opened the refrigerator and took out the cranberry juice
as
Carlton continued getting dressed.

“Aight babe, I will catch up with you later.” Carlton said as he kissed her on the cheek.

The door closed and Imani sighed. She walked over to the couch where she had placed her purse, and pulled out the white sheet of paper. She sighed again and sat down. Things were about to get real, very soon. She had hoped that her period being late was simply due to the stress of her final exams
. However, the test results from the doctor confirmed that the stress was just beginning.

Two Weeks Later

King sat in the large leather chair and watched the faces of the producers as they listened to Sloan’s demo. He knew he had them when they kept adjusting themselves in their seats.

There was a knock on the door of the studio and Panama entered. He leaned down and told King that he was needed outside.

“Aight, gentlemen, I will return in a few moments.” King said
as he
stood
.

He opened the door and walked out into the lobb
y where six men were waiting
. He knew they were cops by the way they were positioned.

Panama walked closely behind King with his right hand twitching.

“Ronnie King?” the shortest of the men said as King approached.

Two of the other men tried to walk behind King, but Panama wasn’t going to let that happen.

The short man pulled out his badge and smiled at King. “Mr. King, you are under arrest.”

King looked back at Panama and laughed. “Arrest for what?” King said, waving
at
Panama to stand down.

“You are under arrest for the murder of Travis Indigo,” the detective said as the other detective placed the handcuffs on King.

King felt the cuffs click and tighten on his wrists. The detective patted him down and found his Glock, and .22. He handed the guns to his partner and pushed King towards the doors.

“Who the hell is Travis Indigo?” King said as they opened the door.

The detective
just shook his head and
read him his Miranda rights as he walked him towards the unmarked police car.

“Yo King, Imma call your Pops.” Panama yelled to King as the detective closed the car door.

King sat back in the seat, trying to think of who the fuck and what the fuck was going on. He wanted to ask the detective again, who Travis Indigo was, but decided it would be best just to stay quiet and wait for his lawyer.

As the car pulled off, King looked back at his studio, and mumbled to himself, “Damn, man. Even when you try to do right, wrong won’t leave you alone.”