Cash Rules Everything

Chapter 1

CASH “MONEY” BANKS

“Can we just kill this nigga and go? I’m tryna get my dick wet tonight.” My younger brother Jelani grumbled, looking up from his phone.

It was muggy as fuck in the old farmhouse.

The industrial ceiling fans weren’t doing shit but circulating hot, stale air.

It felt like the Georgia heat was pressing in from every direction.

It was the last place either of us wanted to be tonight, but when we got the heads up that Rahmel was strolling through the hood like there wasn’t a price on his head, I knew we had to move fast before he disappeared again.

Rahmel’s bloodshot eyes darted frantically between us as he thrashed against the metal chair bolted to the floor. His screams were muffled by the duct tape over his mouth, and his wrists were raw from the cuffs digging into them as he struggled.

“Nah,” I said, pushing off the support beam I was leaning on. “I wanna hear what this nigga gotta say first.”

When we pulled up on the Eastside, this goofy motherfucker was chilling on his aunt’s porch, drinking with his cousins like he hadn’t stolen twenty grand from me.

Jelani and I ran up, snatched that nigga, and shoved his ass in the trunk—all while his cousins watched.

They knew better than to intervene, and nobody on the block was about to call the police.

For the past hour, we’d taken turns beating the shit out of him. By the time he finally passed out, my knuckles were raw and stinging. Jelani had woken him up with smelling salts a few minutes ago so we could wrap this shit up.

“Money, my nigga, please don’t make this shit more dramatic than it needs to be,” Jelani sighed as he walked over to our former lieutenant.

Rahmel winced as Jelani roughly ripped off the tape covering his mouth.

“Tell him what he wants to know so we can send your ass to hell. I’m not trying to be here all fucking night,” Jelani said, slapping him hard across the face.

“I didn’t do shit!” Rahmel screamed. Spit flew from his busted lips as he twisted in the chair. “I swear—”

I started whistling, cutting him off. Shaking my head, I rolled up the sleeves of my white button-down and reached into my pocket for the brass knuckles. The cold metal bit into my torn skin as I slipped them on.

“Rahmel, Rahmel, Rahmel,” I muttered, flexing my fingers. Excitement surged through me as I stepped closer. I bent down to lift his chin with two fingers and forced him to look at me. “You think I’m stupid?” I asked calmly.

“Money, I swear, bruh! It wasn’t me!” Rahmel pleaded desperately. “I wasn’t shorting y’all! On everything—”

“Shut the fuck up!” Jelani cut in. “You think we don’t know about the shit you’ve been pushing down here?”

Rahmel stiffened, his eyes widening as he looked at Jelani, then back at me. Panic rolled off him in waves. He tried to shake his head, but I tightened my grip on his jaw to hold him still.

“Them ODs not on me,” he croaked.

I raised an eyebrow, standing slowly. “Who said anything about ODs?” I asked. “Did you say anything about ODs, Lani?”

Jelani shook his head, feigning confusion. “Ain’t say shit about that.”

Rahmel’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.

“The fuck?” Jelani exclaimed, screwing up his face. “Did this nigga just piss himself?”

I looked down and saw a dark, wet spot spreading on Rahmel’s gray sweatpants.

“Ol’ pissy-ass nigga,” Jelani spat, looking at him with disgust.

I tilted my head, studying Rahmel. “I’m confused, Rahmel,” I said calmly. “Why would an innocent man run?” He opened his mouth to respond, but I cocked back and drove my fist into his face. The sickening crunch of his nose breaking made Jelani flinch.

Rahmel let out a garbled scream, coughing as blood poured from his mouth and onto the floor. He spat out a mouthful of it, his chest heaving as he strained to breathe. This time, when he looked up at me, his eyes weren’t filled with fear.

It was hate.

Ah, there it was.

“Fuck y'all, niggas!” he yelled. His voice was hoarse, but there was no mistaking the defiance in it. “Y’all run everything—I want my own shit!”

I couldn’t help the laugh that spilled out from me.

“So, wait. You decided to rob my shit? That was your big play?” I shook my head.

“This how you do the niggas who held you down and put money on your books when you were locked up? The ones who made sure your girl had more than enough to take care of your son?”

“Unbelievable,” Jelani muttered.

“We don’t pay you enough, Rahmel?” I asked.

Silence.

I turned to Jelani. “This nigga ever mention being in a bind?”

Jelani crossed his arms and glared at Rahmel. “Never. And I know his son goes to that nice ass private school in Alpharetta. That shit ain’t cheap,” he sneered.

I nodded, stepping closer. “So, you can afford to put your youngin’ in the best school, and I know you just bought your girl a new whip...” My voice trailed off as I punched him in the ribs.

Rahmel let out another guttural cry; the chair rattled as he jerked against the restraints.

“By all accounts, you living real good off my money, my nigga,” I said, pulling off the brass knuckles and tossing them onto the ground.

“The issue I’m having is not that you got greedy. That’s to be expected.” I reached for the 9mm Beretta in my waistband. “My problem is that you think my brother and I are soft. And I really can’t have that.” I tapped his forehead with the barrel of the gun.

“Two questions before you die,” I continued, lifting his chin with the edge of the gun. His left eye was swollen shut, and his breathing had become ragged. “One, where’s my money? And two, who’s been helping you?”

“I ain’t—” Rahmel wheezed, blood dribbling from his mouth. “I ain’t no fucking snitch,” he choked out, coughing wetly.

“Tsk,” I sighed. “That’s unfortunate. Guess I’ll have to pull Toya out of that nice house you built. She and your son are gonna end up back in the hood with your cousins by the time I’m through with them.”

Rahmel’s head snapped up at the mention of his family. “They ain’t got shit to do with this!” he gritted.

“Oh, but they do.” I crouched again to meet his gaze. “‘Cause one way or another, I’m getting my lick back. So you can tell me where my shit is and who’s helping you, or I’ll make your baby mother regret ever fucking with your bitch ass. And you know I’m a man of my word, Rahmel.”

“Say, man, tell this long-winded motherfucker what he wants to know so we can kill you. I got shit to do.” Jelani interjected, grabbing Rahmel’s broken nose.

“FUCK!” Rahmel roared. “Fine, I’ll tell you.” He groaned and proceeded to rattle off the number of a storage locker at the airport and where to find the key. As for who helped him?

“Kyree.”

I glanced at Jelani, who was already walking off, phone in hand.

“Much appreciated. I’ll make sure to send Toya some bread for the funeral,” I said, taking the safety off the gun. “Unfortunately, it won’t be an open casket. When you see the devil, tell him I said ‘what’s up’.”

I let off two rounds in his head before he could utter any last words.

“Slim’s gonna get the money from the locker and take it to the safe house tonight. What you wanna do about Kyree?” Jelani asked, ending his call.

I exhaled slowly, my pulse still racing from the adrenaline coursing through me. It was tempting to handle Kyree tonight, but I knew better. There was something bigger happening, and Kyree would help me uncover it.

“I’ll have Nairobi deal with him,” I said, unbuttoning my shirt and tossing it on the floor. The clean-up crew would get rid of it for me. “Have one of the young boys dump this nigga’s body on his cousin’s porch.”

Jelani’s eyes lifted in surprise. “That’s fucked up.”

“Yeah, well,” I said, rolling my shoulders. “It’s time niggas remember who the fuck we are.”