Deadly Saintes- The Complete Series, page 33
part #1 of Deadly Saintes Series
Jovan never saw the bat coming. It landed on the side of his neck, and everything went fuzzy again. The second blow knocked him to his knees. The third took him to the floor. It all happened so quickly that he couldn't react. A jolt of pain shot through his ribs after the bat slammed into his right side.
Jovan couldn't move. His arms were like jelly, and he couldn't catch his breath.
Constance stepped over him and stood near the door. She swung the bat again. And again. And again. She hit his side, his ribs, his arms and hands. She only stopped when his pleas turned into weak moans. She looked down at him. “You must have forgotten who I am. The only reason I didn’t shoot your sorry ass was our daughter. Put your hands on me again and I won't need my father or my brothers. I can make ‘until death do us part’ happen on my own. You’re even more stupid than I thought. We've been together all this time, and you still don't know the worse thing you can do is threaten a Sainte.” Constance looked at Ricky. “His bags are at the front door.”
Ricky pulled Jovan to his feet. “Where do you want me to take him?”
“I already booked him a room at our favorite spot. I’ll tell you what to do then.”
Jovan trembled. “You can’t kill me, Constance! I’m Joi’s daddy. She’s gonna wonder where I am. You’re an evil bitch, but you’re not that evil.” He groaned when her right hook landed on his jaw.
Constance gave him a long, level glare. Then she hit him again.
Ricky looked at Jovan. “Damn. I think you broke his nose.”
Jovan tried to wipe the blood from his face. “It doesn’t have to be like this. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. We can work it out.”
Constance shook her head. "You were Billy Badass a few minutes ago. What happened?" She took a step toward him. "You tried to kill me in my own home. There are things worse than death, Jovan. What just happened is only a sample. If I trip and fall on the sidewalk or get struck by lightning, you’ll pay for it. If anything happens to my family or me, you'll be drinking out of a straw the rest of your natural life. You can be Joi's daddy from a nursing home.”
She looked up at Ricky. “Get him the fuck out of my sight.” She ripped the bottle of bourbon from the bar and poured a generous amount into a glass. She took a sip, then drained the glass. The warmth spread through her. She fell back into the chair and ran her fingers through her hair.
Ricky filled the doorway. “He's in the car. We’re heading out.”
“Thanks for the help.”
He chuckled. "My pleasure. I never liked him, anyway."
Constance had to smile. "I don't like him much, either."
"Remind me never to get on your bad side. Where did you learn to swing like that?"
"Daddy taught me the neck is vulnerable. No bone, no protection. It disorients your opponent. Then you can go to town." Constance let out a mirthless laugh. “Stupid motherfucker forgot I grew up in a family of boys. I’ve been fighting all my life.”
Ricky nodded. "I'll talk to you later."
Constance put her head in her hands after the door closed. The sobs racked her from her feet. Her cheeks still wet, she checked the time and went to her bathroom. She had ten minutes to get to Joi’s school before her basketball practice ended. She washed her face and put drops in her eyes. Jovan’s fingerprints were on her throat. She wrapped a scarf around her neck and grabbed her keys.
2
Constance hugged her father for a long time. His arms had always been her shelter. She felt protected and loved and wanted. She could let her guard down. She let out a breath after he rested his chin on the top of her head. He tightened his arms before allowing them to fall away.
Reginald said, “You know I never liked him right?”
“Yeah, I know. But--”
“You were in love. Then you messed around and let him knock you up. Well, it’s a good thing you’re not in love anymore. Jovan was chipping at your soul. He was better at that than anyone else I knew. What are you going to do about custody? What about the money?”
“You always told me to grow allies rather than enemies. I’m willing to make reasonable arrangements.”
Reginald grunted. “He never impressed me as the reasonable type. He’s lazy, he’s stupid, and that’s dangerous.” He lifted her chin with his finger. “You need to think this through. How long has he been gone?”
“I put him out last week.”
“That’s more than enough time to mourn the good times. The best way to get over heartbreak is to work. You remember how I was after your mother died.”
“I do,” she said with a laugh, “I think we only saw you once a week for that entire year.”
He brought his hand to her lips. “You’re a queen. No more crying over peasants.” He walked around to the other side of the desk, noticing her smile when he sat down. “What’s funny?”
“Jovan said I looked down on him like he was a peasant.”
“Deep down, everyone knows what they are, even if they don’t want to admit it.” His face grew serious as he laid eyes on the bruises around her neck. “You did the right thing by sending him away. If any of your brothers were here to see your neck…” Reginald tapped his fingers on the desk. “I’d kill him myself, but Ricky tells me you handled it.”
“I don’t think he’ll touch me again.”
“No, I don’t think he will. We have more to worry about than Jovan. What about Trey?”
“We need to make him come to us,” he said. “We’ve been handling him the wrong way. As bad as he wants to be his own man, he’s still just like Titus. They think and react the same way.”
“Then maybe we need to handle him like we handled Titus.”
“No,” Reginald replied. “We need him to see that we aren’t his enemy.”
“It’ll be hard to convince him of that when he’s got a cop feeding him information.” The shock she saw on his face disappeared as soon as it appeared.
Constance slid a stack of photos toward Reginald. “Did you know that Titus had a daughter? Better yet, did you know she was a police officer in New York? She came here for her father's funeral, and she never went back. I haven’t put anybody on them yet, but I have no doubt that she’s trying to turn Trey.”
Reginald recognized Brooklyn almost immediately. He hadn't seen her since she was a toddler, but she was clearly the little girl he had known. The camera captured her as she was turning. He studied the tattoo that rested just behind her earlobe. A slight jerk caused his sleeve to raise, the same tattoo peeking from underneath his watch.
“What’s her name?”
“Brooklyn. Unmarried, no kids, lives by herself. It’d be easy to—”
“We’re not killing anyone else.” Reginald lowered his voice. “We can get control of the situation without having to resort to more violence.”
She sighed. “Tell me what to do then.”
“How did you find out who she was?”
“Did you know about her?”
“Of course I knew. How did you find out?”
Constance crossed her legs. “My father taught me to be resourceful. He still underestimates me, though.”
“I didn’t mean it like that, baby girl. I just know what it’s like to be involved in so much death and I don’t want that for you or your brothers. Can I keep this picture?”
Constance nodded. He placed it in the drawer.
They spent the next hour tossing ideas back and forth. The trick was finding a win-win situation in which they didn’t lose too much. They didn’t have to convince Trey to be friends. All they needed was an agreement to drop the hostility. After that they could stay out of one another’s ways.
Constance took a sip from her mug. “If Trey wants to be the man, why don’t we convince him he already is?”
“How the hell are we going to do that?”
“Let’s marry the Black Knights. They’ll be the face, we’ll be the brains.”
The Black Knights were a well-established motorcycle club that ran a string of strip clubs. Their businesses ranged from prostitution to drug trafficking and money laundering. They also performed security duties for the right price. The club was one of the few that stayed off the Sainte payroll. Theirs was a tight operation. They only worked with family and those who had an immaculate reputation.
"The Knights are looking to expand."
Reginald grunted. "Their type always wants more. Go ahead, I'm listening."
"We suggest that Trey may sell the business. He needs more muscle. We've shown him that. No one knows we're allied with the Knights. They're rogues."
Reginald leaned forward. "Go on."
“Trey isn't about the day-to-day management. He enjoys feeling important, but he has a short attention span. We can kill two birds with one stone. If they buy Trey's business, we establish a new business relationship. That gives us access to a sector of the market and another ally. When Trey goes for it, he’ll be out of our way. Really, it’s three birds.”
Reginald stared at his desk, his mind still on the photo.
"Daddy? What do you think?"
The plan would work under normal circumstances, but Brooklyn was a wild card. As much as Trey wanted to persuade everyone else that he was his own man, he was a follower. His mind changed with the wind. Brooklyn was sure to have just stepped into Titus’ space. No doubt about it, Brooklyn was calling the shots. He needed to see her. He needed to talk to her, to see where her head was. To see if she remembered the truth.
“Daddy.”
“I’m sorry. I was…it’s a lot to think about,” he said. “It’s a good plan baby girl, but it’s risky. We don’t know anything about these gentlemen.”
“The leader’s name is Kourtney. Long rap sheet, prone to violence when he doesn’t get his way. The typical biker.”
“Dangerous.”
“I already set up a meeting with him.” She stood and saw the line in her father's forehead. "Lawrence is coming with me, don’t worry.”
He looked up at her. Constance was just as stubborn as her mother. He knew there would be no changing her mind. It dawned on him that the meeting could be used to his advantage, keeping her busy while he met with Brooklyn.
He closed the door behind her and ran back to his desk. He tore the photo in his haste to remove it from the drawer. His phone vibrated while he attempted to tape the separated piece back into place. He hit the answer button.
Screeching tires and angry horns blared in the background. Static followed soon after. “You there?”
A garbled sentence was the person’s response.
“Lawrence.”
Lawrence let a stream of curses fly. “Stupid piece of shit! I’m here. Sorry about that. People act they’re driving with their feet. What’s up?”
“I need you to–”
“Hold on. Constance is calling.”
Reginald peered through the blinds. Constance’s car was still in the driveway. He hoped they weren’t discussing Brooklyn. Constance was sure to be hatching a plan to take both her and Trey out.
The tape’s residue stuck to his finger, causing more to rip away.
“You still there?” Lawrence asked.
“What did Constance want?”
“Just confirming the meeting with the Black Knights. She also wanted me to put someone on Trey’s sister, Brooke.”
“Brooklyn. Her name is Brooklyn.” Reginald held the repaired pictured closer to his face. “Don’t worry about finding someone. I’ll take care of it.”
“You sure?”
“Of course. Concentrate on Trey. Oh, and don’t tell Constance. She already has enough to worry about with what’s going on between her and Jovan.”
“Did you see what the fuck he did to her?”
Reginald chuckled. “She took care of it.”
Lawrence managed a laugh. “Remind me to never make that girl mad.”
“You have better sense than to put your hands on her.”
“True. I could kill him with my bare hands.”
Reginald shook his head. “I want him dead, too, son. But Constance doesn’t, and we have to respect her wishes. I’m not just upset about what he did. He’s a loose end. Let’s think this through. He wants money. I believe he’ll be pacified as long as he doesn’t have to work for a living.”
“He doesn’t deserve that.”
“Cool heads always prevail. I need you clear minded, Lawrence.”
“I am. I just…”
“You won. You got the prize. You and Constance can be together now. You don’t have to hide. By the way, I always knew that you were better for her.” He heard Lawrence’s breath slow. “You good?”
“I’m good. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome, soon to be son-in-law.” Reginald ended the call only to dial another number. He called for a car.
Lawrence rested his hand on Constance’s lower back as they followed the two large men down the long hallway. Constance did her best not to turn her nose up at the topless women that walked by. Men trailed behind the women, looking like they had been hypnotized. She never understood why women choose to use their power in such an exploitative way.
Another young woman strutted past them. Her clear backpack had at least a thousand dollars inside. Constance’s eyes fell to the woman's breasts. They were clearly not made by nature. Lawrence’s hand slid to the top of her ass.
She looked at him, and he winked. He bent and whispered into her ear.
"I like what I have."
Two men flanked the door at the end of the hall. One of them pushed it open. He jerked his head toward the open door, then resumed his post.
Lawrence and Constance stepped inside. The room smelled of cigar smoke. Expensive cigars, Lawrence thought. Dominican or Cuban. A suit of armor stood in the corner. The desk was large and heavy, with skulls carved into the face of it. There was a large leather desk chair behind it, but its back faced the door. They stood in front of the desk and waited.
The chair spun around. The woman’s short haircut accentuated her large brown eyes. She had clear caramel skin, high cheekbones and a heart-shaped face. She was wearing a crisp white shirt with silver cufflinks. She set the cigar in the ashtray on her desk.
Lawrence said, “We came to meet Kourtney.”
“I am Kourtney.”
Lawrence nodded. “We meant no disrespect.”
She leaned back in the chair and looked a them. She seemed to be fighting a smile. "Don't worry about it," she said. "I try to keep it that way." She picked up the cigar and took a long pull. She blew smoke rings. "What better way to stay off the pigs’ radar than to make them think I’m a man? Please. Sit. Can I get you something to drink? A cigar?"
"No," Constance said. "Thank you."
Kourtney let her gaze linger on Constance's breasts. "I insist."
"Johnny Walker," Constance replied. "Neat."
Kourtney smiled around her cigar. "You have good taste. And you, handsome?"
"I'll have the same."
Kourtney rested her cigar and went to the bar behind her desk. She was taller than Constance had imagined, average height for a woman. She picked up a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue and poured three generous drinks. She set them on her desk and sat down. "Constance Sainte. What brings you to me?”
Constance and Lawrence looked at one another.
“Your brother comes here quite a bit. Well, he used to. What ever happened to Malcom?” She chuckled after their mouths dropped open. “It took me by surprise too when I found out who he was. Is he okay? He was one of my best patrons.”
“He's fine," Lawrence replied. "Can we get down to business?"
Kourtney analyzed his face. “You’re too tall to be Darius and I know Reggie Jr. And you're fine enough to convince me to swing that way.” Kourtney took a sip of her drink. "I always did like me a big ebony man."
Constance gripped her glass. “He’s right, this is a business meeting. I’ll introduce you to the rest of the family if things go well.”
“Floor is yours, Ms. Sainte.” She cut her eyes in Lawrence’s direction. She smirked when she saw his brow twitch. She put the cigar out and clasped her hands in front of her. She leaned forward. The buttons on her blouse strained across her ample chest. Constance wondered if Kourtney had ever been on the pole.
Kourtney focused on Constance. “Tell me what you want,” she said in a husky voice.
Constance focused on the benefits that the organization would enjoy. She promised them that they would be in charge of all Titus’ businesses. They would have access to the people on the Sainte payroll and contact list. They would also receive 70 of the profits gained from the business.
Kourtney stretched her arms across the desk. “All that sounds good, but what happens when Trey finds out you’re behind this? My number one concern is keeping my people safe. What can you offer as a guarantee?” Her eyes fell to Constance’s cleavage once more.
“We’ll double the amount you charge for security,” Lawrence said. “And we’ll give you a deposit. We have a ganja farm. I’ll get you some land.”
Kourtney’s boot thumped on the floor. “I like the terms,” she said. "I think we have a deal, but I'd like to sleep on it."
Lawrence and Constance let go of each other’s hands when they reached his car.
“I think she was hitting on you,” Lawrence said.
Constance raised an eyebrow. "Ya think?"
“Just another person trying to take you from me.” He went into his suit pocket and pulled a ring out. “Put that on. I’m sick of this shit.”
"Well, aren't you the romantic?"
"We're past that, don't you think? We belong together. We both know it.
3
Brooklyn ran her hand through her hair. She crossed and uncrossed her legs. Weeks had passed and nothing had changed.
All the Saintes were still alive..
She wanted to take care of it herself, but Santini had convinced her to let Trey take the lead. Stepping on his toes would only result in blowback and that’s the last thing she needed. She decided Santini was right, and she made a concerted effort not to ask Trey about his plans.
