Unraveled - A Short Story Collective (17 page)

He sighed lightly thinking these were the same people who would think nothing of killing someone over a color worn, or a city block they never had or would own. Devastator was a business man, and for any form of mercy or weakness to be shown to someone who’d wronged him, would signal the beginning of the end of everything he’d ever built. It was the
principle they were concerned with, and others trying to follow suite. For Devastator, principal was one thing worth killing over.

“What time is this fool supposed to be home?” Devastator asked Dirty, whose laughter had subsided to an occasional chuckle.

“Supposed to be there around 6:00,” Dirty replied. “That’s what Red told me.”

Red was a crackhead, but he was generally accurate in the information he gave Dirty and Devastator about anyone they were inquiring about.

“All right good, that gives us time to get in and set up,” Devastator replied, thinking ahead.

Here we go again
, Dirty thought. They were going to kill this guy. Devastator wanted to kill not just him but his whole family, except the kids of course, which didn’t bother Dirty at all. He just hated once again, the theatrics of it all. They arrived at the dealer’s house. No one was home, just as Red told them. They eased around to the back door of the small, modest ranch home, picked the lock and entered the house.

 
It was a pleasant house for someone making minimum wage at a job. It was furnished nicely with high-end pieces.
Way more than this fucker could afford. Probably did it with the money he stole from us
, Devastator thought as he looked around.

The house was neat and clean. Family photos lined the mantle above the fireplace. Devastator stepped up to look at them and saw they had three kids, two little ones and a teenage daughter. The mother was a
fairly attractive woman, he thought. He chuckled to himself, knowing that Dirty would do her.

 
Devastator made his way through each room. The master room was theirs he knew. It was neat, bed made and furnished in simple earth tones. The next room was the kids’ room he surmised, finding lots of stuffed animals and Tonka trucks.

The last room was the teenager’s. Devastator found posters, CDs, and of course clothes thrown everywhere. This was the messiest room in the house. He chuckled again, thinking he would never allow his teenager to keep their room this messy. There he went again, thinking about shit that didn’t exist. He couldn’t help it, often wondering if he would ever have kids or a semi normal life doing what he did. Now, wasn’t the time to think about that, Devastator thought as he cleared his head and refocused on the task at hand.

After he made sure the house was empty, he began to set up for the evening’s pleasure. He’d brought some of his favorite toys: the straight edge razor, 9 mm chrome pistol, .380 magnum pistol and his brass knuckles. Devastator sat down in the kitchen at the table, propped his feet on it and popped open one of the beers he’d found in the refrigerator and waited. Dirty hated this part. He hated waiting on them to come home, but Devastator loved that element of surprise thing. He loved the look on their faces when they walked in and found them waiting for them. Sometimes, Dirty had to admit he really liked it, too. He just hated the waiting part. This time he’d brought some chronic. He rolled a fat one and smoked. That would keep him mellow and the target should be home in a few minutes anyway. Then they would have some real fun. Dirty knew the wife and the teenage daughter were good looking. He was horny and he would have him a little fun before Devastator killed them.

Dirty already knew his role here was simply support and having his friend’s back. He knew Devastator loved killing them in groups. It was the one hang up he had.
We all got our little quirks, so what the hell,
he thought.

Dirty heard the car pull up and looked at Devastator who had that little smile playing on his face. Dirty knew it was show time. They both kept quiet, listening intently. Devastator heard at least five voices that he could pick out, two of them kids. He would get rid of them first, Devastator thought to himself, pulling the mask down over his face. Dirty did the same. The lock clicked and the door opened, the kids running in first, as the adults followed.

 As soon as he heard the door close and the lock click, Dirty stepped out of the shadows, glock drawn and hammer pulled back. The woman saw him first and screamed, catching everyone else’s attention and Dirty pointed the gun right at her. She stopped screaming. Devastator grabbed the first kid, who looked about six or seven, and held the chloroform to his nose. He struggled for a minute or two and was out. He repeated the same with the other kid who was about five. Devastator took the kids, one under each arm, and put them in a bedroom, closing the door behind him and propping a chair against it. He walked back into the living room where Dirty had all the victims seated and took off his mask.

The look on the dealers face was priceless. He gasped and immediately began to explain, plead, and beg. Devastator was genuinely amused and laughed. It never failed that they always did this when he showed up. He couldn’t understand it. Why didn’t they just do the right thing in the first place and avoid his visit. Didn’t they know that once he came there was no more space to negotiate?

“What’s shaking man?” Devastator asked the dealer nonchalantly.

Dirty who’d removed his mask by this time, was smoking a cigarette, eyeing the wife and daughter of the dealer.

“N-N-N-Nothing,” the dealer stammered “Man, I was gonna bring yo’ money tonight, I swear it.”

Devastator shot the dealer a no nonsense look. He fell silent for a minute, then began talking again.

“Man I know you gonna kill me, but please let my family go man,” he was crying now. “They ain’t do nothing. I did this man, me.”

That’s when Dirty saw it, and no matter how long he’d been with Devastator it still made him cringe. Devastator’s eyes went flat and cold, his nostrils flared, his voice became low and hard.
He spoke directly to the dealer.

“I’m going to kill everybody in this fucking room, but I’ma save your thieving ass for last. I want you to live long enough to see me kill everything you love,” Devastator told him matter-of-fact.

“I’ma let Dirty here do your wife in front of you. I’m going to make your daughter suck my dick. Then I’ma let Dirty, do her too while you see her cry and scream,” he continued, feeling colder and meaner by the moment.

“Then I’ma beat on your woman for a while, fuck her up real good. Then I’ma kill them, one by one, slowly, and for me, enjoyably, while you watch. The last memory you have, will be of them looking into your cheating, stealing, lying eyes, asking you why you killed them.” Devastator finished up, still looking him in the eye. The dealer was truly inconsolable at this point.

“Man, please, please man!” he cried almost screaming. “Let them go, they ain’t steal yo shit! I did it man! Punish me!”

Devastator looked at the dealer again, but Dirty knew he wasn’t seeing him. Wherever his friend’s mind was right now, it wasn’t in this room.

 

 

Copyright © 2008 KR Bankston  All Rights Reserved

 

There are winners and losers, amateurs and professionals, but to survive this hustle, you must be the cream of the crop, the master of manipulation and happenstance, the ultimate ……

 

King of the Game

By KR Bankston

Copyright © 20
07 KR Bankston. All rights reserved.

 

 

 

Is it ever okay to lie to someone you love?

 

ARMANI PROCTOR
, co-founder of TMK records, is a successful businessman with a dark past he’s trying desperately to leave behind. His deepest desire is realized when he meets a beautiful reporter and falls in love, only to have that love threatened when his old life begins to clash with his new.

 

SYDNEY HOLLINGSWORTH
, senior writer with Mover & Shakers magazine, is the woman who captures Armani’s heart. Everyone loves her and her refreshing realness, but Sydney has a dark and clouded past of her own that she keeps and tries to outrun daily.

 

Join our cast and their supporting players and see for yourself if Armani truly is, King of the Game.

 

 

 

Introduction

 

The Music Kingdom, or TMK as it was known was the latest in a string of African American labels to flourish, as the once dying metropolis of Detroit revitalized itself in the last five years. It was by the far the most successful of the pack with at least five of the fifteen artists signed to the label, charting in the top 100. Here they would kick off the thirty-city tour for TMK’s newest success, Kenton. Everyone was busy setting up, and making sure everything was in place for tonight. He was the headline act, with two other label mates, Tajdra and Muxix Box, opening for him.

They were up and coming artists, also on TMK’s label. The public relations machine had been at work for months now, hyping Kenton and his CD. He was the newest twenty-two year old R&B sensation, and his CD was skyrocketing. The women loved him. The guys tolerated him, sometimes emulating him, using his music as a tool of seduction for the women in their lives.  They’d done public appearances, radio shows, morning shows and the like. Now it was time for it to pay off. The kid was almost becoming more of a liability, than an asset these days.

Armani Proctor was a man who took his business and his money seriously. He was one of the owners of TMK, as well as executive producer for most of the artist’s work that came through the label. He’d spent a lot of money on Kenton, and Armani wanted to make sure he got a sound return on his investment. They were playing the MetroPlex Theatre. It was a fairly intimate setting, but he’d known they could sell it out, which they did, for both Friday and Saturday night. Armani planned to have Kenton return again once he became more widely known, and play a larger venue. For now, he would work with the Plex.

*****

His cell rang and he answered. “This is Armani,” he said smoothly. The party on the other end gave him some unsettling news.

“Thanks for calling,” he returned. “I’ll take care of it,” he finished, the scowl deepening on his face as he hung up.
This damned kid better start making us a whole lot of money real fast,
Armani thought angrily, as he dialed his partner.

“Hello Armani,” Bert greeted him.

Armani returned the man’s greeting, and proceeded to tell him what he’d just been told.

“Hmm,” he replied again. “Take care of what’s necessary,” he told him. “However, please make Kenton aware this is the absolute last time,” he continued. “Once more, and we will nullify his contract,” he finished in a no nonsense tone. Armani sighed deeply, and told him he understood.

“By the way Armani,” Bert began again, “There is a meeting with the stockholders tomorrow. I want something excellent to tell them,” he said, his tone leaving no room for error.

Armani almost laughed aloud, at his reference to the silent partners as stockholders. They were a lot of things, but ordinary stockholders they were not.

“I understand,” he replied. “Trust that I will do all in my power to assure that happens.”

Bert sighed softly, and told him that was good because their continued existence depended on his report.

“I’ll check with you before the concert, to make sure all is well,” he told Armani once more, reiterating the point of their investment.

“It’ll be taken care,” Armani assured him and ended the call, heading to his car. He was going over to handle this personally.

 

 

1

 

 

“Come on Armani man,” Vashon was pleading with him.

Vashon was one of his oldest friends, and he’d included him in TMK when he’d started it. His job was that of talent scout, and he was trying to convince Armani to come hear the young man he’d found performing at one of the hot nightspots in the city.

“What makes this one special?” Armani asked Vashon, staring out at the Houston skyline from their hotel window.

As far as Armani was concerned, seen one R&B singer, you’ve seen them all.

“The kid is talented Armani. Come on and give him a chance,” Vashon continued to plead.

Armani sighed heavily, and told him OK.

“Dang! It’s like pulling teeth with you man!” Vashon declared laughing, as they headed out to his Porsche and to the club.

They’d arrived just as Kenton was halfway through his performance. The two men garnered their own share of attention when they entered the club. They were both extremely well dressed in the tailored suits they were wearing. Armani in black, with burgundy accessories and Vashon in slate gray, with periwinkle accessories, both layered with ice. Several women were taking them in, as they sat and watched the show.

Armani had to admit he liked the kid’s sound. Kenton had a great stage presence, and had the audience eating out of his hand.

“So?” Vashon asked, once the performance was finished.

Armani looked at him evenly for a long time, before answering.

“Bring him back to the hotel tomorrow, and we’ll talk,” He said calmly.

Vashon laughed and clapped his hands together.

“Excellent choice man!” he told him.

Armani sat back and thought about the kid and his performance. He could definitely be marketed handsomely, he surmised. Armani hadn’t known then, how much of a pain the kid was going to turn out to be
.

He sighed deeply, turning into the hotel where they’d put everyone up. Armani had worked too hard to watch his dream go up in smoke, fooling around with an ungrateful youngster, who had no idea what struggle really was. He was damn well going to straighten this kid out once and for all.

******

Kenton was relaxing in his suite, with one of his makeup artists. He’d slept with every woman on his staff; thoroughly enjoying his new lifestyle. Kenton thought back to his first meeting with Armani at the hotel in Houston. He’d been completely blown away when Vashon approached him that night at the club. Vashon had been true to his word, and sent the car to pick him up the following morning taking him downtown.

Kenton had to admit Armani unsettled him a bit. The man was strictly business at all times. He couldn’t remember seeing him partying, or playing with anyone ever.
He really needs to get laid,
Kenton thought, chuckling softly. He knew he was more than likely going to see Armani today, after what’d happened when they checked in.
That wasn’t my fault,
he thought sullenly. He was Kenton, and why shouldn’t he have what he wanted?

He was on top of the charts right now. His single was number two on the chart and the fans couldn’t get enough of him. He was TMK right now, and they’d better start recognizing and treating him better. He’d already been checking out other record companies. Kenton was going to shop for a better deal. He saw other artists making more than him, and enjoying the high life. He was sure they weren’t getting the hassles he was getting from Armani, and TMK. He was just as good as any of the rest of the artists who were hot right now.

Kenton hated having to play all these second rate venues. Why couldn’t he play some place bigger? He surely had the draw to sell any venue out right now. Armani was being his usual anal self of course, and made him play the MetroPlex. Kenton roused the sleeping girl from his bed, and told her she needed to leave. She dressed quickly and gave him a peck on the cheek before heading out. Kenton thought about Derica. He missed her and he missed Houston. They were both home territory familiar to him. She was his girl. Well she used to be. She’d broken up with him once he’d gotten signed.
How backwards is that,
Kenton thought. Derica was different from any woman he’d known. She had plans for her life, and she’d told him very plainly, being a groupie girlfriend, was not part of them. Derica was in her second year of college and planning to go to law school.

Kenton thought of all the time they’d spent and how they’d each talked about their dreams and hopes, recalling one of their last conversations.
“Kenny” she’d begun, using her pet name for him “Don’t let the lights and shimmer get you caught up, OK?” she’d told him on many occasions before he’d gotten signed.
Kenton needed her with him. Derica kept him grounded and level.
Why would she leave me now of all times,
Kenton constantly thought to himself. Most women would give their right arm to have a man making the money he was. Derica was still cordial and friendly when he called her. She gave him advice, and listened when he needed to vent, but she would never talk about them.

He wanted desperately to talk about that. Kenton wanted her back, and he hated with all his heart that Derica was talking about dating again. He pushed the thoughts out of his mind knowing they would make him edgy and sad. He didn’t need anything to interfere with his performances this weekend. Kenton was heading to the shower, when he heard the knock on his door.

*****

Armani strode into the room and took a seat. Kenton didn’t like to look he had.
Damn, here it comes,
he thought. Armani sat thoughtfully for a while before addressing him.

“Just what the hell happened during check-in Kenton,” he asked plainly, trying hard to mask his anger and impatience.

Kenton took a deep breath, trying to choose his words to best explain the incident.

“Nothing man, just a big misunderstanding” he replied, hoping to skirt the issue and move on.

Armani continued to look at him hard.

“Oh really?” he replied never taking his eyes of Kenton. “Then tell me why I got a call, and had to come down here and give these people an extra three grand as security.”

Kenton sighed deeply. “Look, all I asked them to do was give me the suite with the better view. They’re the ones that were rude, and not willing to be flexible,” he told Armani.

“So you figured that gave you the right to curse the desk clerk, break several of their wall decorations, and cause a complete scene at the front desk,” Armani asked again.

Kenton couldn’t understand why Armani was always so anal about things. He was the artist after all. Didn’t he have the right to expect to be treated like the royalty that he was?

“Well I just figured with the money they were being paid, they could at least do that one simple thing,” Kenton replied haughtily.

Armani wanted to smack him.
This damn kid is living in a fantasy,
he thought tiredly. “Well, here’s the deal Kenton,” he began again. “This is the absolute last time we will be bailing your ass out,” he went on. “If anything like this happens again, anything at all, we will nullify your contract, and you’ll be out,” Armani finished with a tone of finality.

Kenton supposed he should at least act like he was afraid of that possibility, but he wasn’t. He knew they were just bluffing. They needed him more than he needed them, but he would play along for now, just to appease them.

“I’m sorry Armani, and I swear it won’t happen again,” Kenton told him trying to sound as sincere as possible.

Armani knew he was lying, and his mind was already working ahead to how they would promote Tajdra, their other promising artist on the label.
This fucking kid is not going to learn until we yank this rug out from under him,
He thought. He hoped however, the kid would indeed behave long enough for him to reap some of his money back that he’d spent on him. Armani sighed deeply again, before speaking.

“OK Kenton,” he told him simply. “Get your shower, and come on downstairs. The reporter is here to do your interview,” he finished calmly.

Kenton smiled, and told him he’d be ready in thirty minutes. Armani nodded and got up to leave him to himself. Kenton chuckled to himself in the shower, thinking of how well he’d pulled off the performance earlier. Armani made a mental note to have the attorneys begin the contract termination paperwork. He already knew the kid was going to force their hand.

******

Sydney Hollingsworth was downstairs setting up for her interview with Kenton. She was one of the senior writers on staff for Movers & Shakers, the local urban magazine that focused on the up and coming power players in the city. Sydney was looking forward to her meeting with Kenton. He was the latest sensation, and she was proud of the fact he’d helped TMK get on the map nationally by proxy bringing more tourism and recognition to their once dying city.

Sydney didn’t know much about the label, except that it was black owned and originated here. Her best friend Tarianna worked for them, in their administrative offices. She recalled their last conversation.
“Girl you are going to absolutely lose it when you see Armani,” she’d breathed, smiling. Sydney laughed. “You’ve got a serious crush on this man don’t you?” she’d teased her friend. “Yep, and when you see him, you’ll know why,” Tarianna replied, laughing now herself.

Sydney had to admit she was curious after thinking about what Tarianna said. She knew Armani was major partner with the label, and that he was in his mid thirties.
A bit too old for you, don’t you think girl,
she thought to herself. Sydney laughed at the thought. She didn’t let chronological differences interfere with anyone she may have been attracted too. Granted she’d just turned twenty-seven, she’d dated on both ends of the spectrum. Younger or older didn’t matter to her at all. It was the personality that counted.

Sydney glanced at her watch. She expected Kenton in about ten minutes. She knew with a certainty she didn’t want to get involved with him. She’d heard Kenton was quite the womanizer, not to mention he was only out for all he could mount. Sydney chuckled to herself again at the thought, and returned to her notepad readying her questions for him. She had a few moments to spare, so she headed for the ladies room. Sydney checked her make-up and outfit again. She’d opted for a business casual look, combining the professional black skirt with dressy sandals, and soft green sleeveless peasant top. Her shoulder length hair framed her face, the auburn color accentuating her features.
Well I’d better get back out here before he thinks I’ve stood him up,
Sydney thought, chuckling again to herself, as she headed back to her table.

*****

Five minutes after she’d returned, and gathered her notes, Armani and Kenton appeared before her.

“Good morning Sydney,” Armani greeted the woman.

He’d gotten her name from Tarianna when she’d called to remind them of the appointment. Sydney looked up at the two men standing and smiled.

“Good morning gentlemen,” she replied smoothly.

She motioned them to take a seat.

“Thank you both so much, for taking the time to see me,” Sydney told them still smiling.

Kenton quickly turned on the charm.

“Not a problem for someone as beautiful as you,” he replied, giving her a look.

Sydney was completely unimpressed, but maintained her composure. She asked Kenton to tell her a little about himself. He began to talk, and Sydney took the opportunity to take him in fully. Kenton was a creamy caramel complexion. Nice body, a little on the slim side for her, but very well sculpted. He had bedroom eyes. The kind that would have you undressed, and in trouble before you knew it. His teeth were of course whitened, and he had nice lips. His hair was neatly done in a unique cornrow design, with large diamond studs in both ears.

“So now with all that work, here I am,” Kenton was finishing up as Sydney reined her thoughts in.

She was recording their interview, so paying attention was not really necessary on her part.

“Wow, that’s very impressive Kenton,” Sydney told him smiling back.

She probably wants some of this now,
Kenton was thinking to himself smugly. He looked her over and admitted she was a very sexy woman.

“Are you coming to the show tonight?” Kenton asked Sydney seductively.

She almost laughed aloud at his attempts.

“No, I actually already have other plans Kenton,” Sydney replied, sounding as sincere as possible.

“Pity,” he replied, licking his lips. “Maybe you can come tomorrow. I’ll make sure you have an excellent seat,” Kenton offered again.

Sydney supposed she should at least attend one show so she could add that angle to her article.

“Well, I don’t think I have any plans for tomorrow,” she replied.

Kenton smiled brightly.
I’m going to give you what you really want pretty lady,
he was thinking ahead to the sex he would have with her, after Saturday’s concert.

“Good. It’s settled then,” he finished. “I’ll have your tickets brought to you before you leave today,” Kenton told her, rising to leave.

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