GOOD LIFE #3
She’d hired a slew of scantily dressed bottle girls and waitresses and trained them all herself.
Black beaded leotards with sheer or fishnet stockings and six-inch heels were their uniform.
Maisie was smart in the hiring process and didn’t discriminate on a woman’s waist size.
The BBW women made just as much if not more on a good night than the more petite ones.
“Already in you and Heavy’s section, along with the 1872,” she said, not even looking up from mixing drinks and bouncing along to Too Short. “I left a new strain in there too. Tell me what you think.”
“I love being a guinea pig.” Viggo slapped his hands together and nudged Prischa playfully. “Lil P know you out here showing out like this? Where he at?”
“With Petal for the night, and he ain’t got no say on what mama put on.” Prischa rolled her neck, and Heavy leaned against the counter beside her.
“What y’all been up to today?”
“Same shit.” Viggo slapped a hand against Heavy’s shoulder. “Let’s go grab our table.”
The two were expecting a guest tonight, so they could go over some turf issues, and Heavy was ready to get it over with.
His social battery was at minimum already.
The club shit was cool, but Prischa enjoyed it more than he did.
He was cool at home with Pierre while she turned up.
He’d started rebuilding cars in his spare time, slowly making his own collection of all his favorites.
Sometimes he had to go on a hunt to find parts, but he enjoyed the challenge.
“Give us a minute before y’all come over,” Heavy instructed.
Trailing Viggo over to the VIP section past the dancefloor and staircase, he spotted Oz at the entrance, surveying the scene.
With a red fitted KC hat on his head, his hooded eyes landed on Viggo and Heavy across the way.
He had to bypass the ladies to move in his direction, catching Heavy’s twin’s eye in a matter of seconds.
“Mmm, who is that?” Henna sipped her lemon drop and smacked her lips while eye fucking Oz as he strolled by.
He briefly glanced her way, making sure to specifically lock eyes with her before half smiling and rubbing his hands together like he was about to hit the jackpot.
“Girl, that’s Odin!” Lou leaned in and hissed. “They call him Oz. He’s from Edgewater.” She brought her shot glass to her lips and sipped.
“Him and his lil’ homie are fine,” Henna declared, watching him and the young brown skinned nigga with him move toward Viggo and Heavy in their section.
“Indeed,” Gem agreed, swinging around on her stool and swallowing her martini.
She had officially turned twenty-one a few weeks ago, and Maisie couldn’t keep her out of the damn club.
She was glad she could keep an eye on her, though, because Gem was wild.
She reminded her so much of Giselle sometimes the shit was crazy.
Gem had her eye on Oz’s little friend. He had this boyish ruggedness, with locs that hung to his chest and denim jeans with a black Celine T-shirt and the White Thunder Retro 4s on his feet.
“Mais, keep the drinks coming. We lit tonight!” Prischa raised her glass.
“Y’all want an edible?” Mais suggested.
“Hell no!” Lou declared. “I don’t know if I took the muhfucka last time or it took me!” She adamantly shook her head.
“I’ll take one.” Gem held her hand up but didn’t turn around.
“No thanks,” Prischa objected.
“Count me the fuck in.” Henna bounced in her seat and swayed.
Across the room, Heavy closed the curtains to their VIP room as Oz and his man, Solo, joined him and Viggo.
The four of them exchanged handshakes before settling on the sectional leather sofa.
LED lights illuminated the glass beneath the table where two buckets of champagne were arranged with flutes and a bottle of Don Julio with fresh shot glasses.
Viggo picked up one of the Backwoods on the tray and swiped it under his nose to get a whiff of the strain.
“I appreciate you coming through,” Heavy greeted them, taking a seat beside Viggo and clasping his hands together.
“Been hearing all about club Frenzy!” Oz grinned and leaned back, kicking one leg over the other with his arms stretched across the back of the couch.
“This is the homie, Solo. He’s like my little brother, and I’ve taken him under my wing.
I trust him more than any nigga on this planet.
” Oz patted Solo on the back. “My issues ain’t with you, Heavy.
We good. But this nigga right here…” Oz aimed a finger at Viggo.
“He out of line fucking with my sister. She only nineteen, and I don’t play that shit. ”
“Man, I’m saying, Oz, she still grown.” Viggo sucked his teeth.
“Shut up,” Heavy ordered, cutting his eyes at his cousin. “I understand your concerns.”
“Not only that, she’s a good girl. She in college, and every time I do a fact check on this fool, another bitch’s name comes up.” Oz waved a hand at Viggo.
He started to open his mouth and object, but Heavy aimed an icy stare at him.
Shaking his head, Viggo leaned back like a little kid in trouble.
He knew now wasn’t the time or place to be trying to argue.
Heavy was always telling him he needed to learn how to keep a cool head.
He was already beefing with two other crews in the city over bitches.
Niggas got disrespectful when their feelings got hurt over a hoe they claimed not to give a fuck about.
When it came to the women within the circle of other crews he fucked with, it required a sit down.
Heavy had Prischa and a sister, plus he included Maisie, Lou, and Gem in his circle of protection.
The last thing he wanted was somebody coming at any of them wrong.
While he recognized that a woman had been the downfall of many men, over them, he was ready to burn some shit down if necessary.
Viggo was being reckless with his dick, and Heavy really wished he would grow up.
“Tell you what, he will stay away from her. Just make sure you keep her young ass out of Southwick. Viggo is a local hoe for the most part, so he can’t control who coming through to see him,” Heavy acknowledged.
Oz’s gaze drifted from Heavy over to Viggo, who sat back, somewhat satisfied with the outcome. At least Heavy wasn’t completely blaming him for this. He couldn’t help it if hoes were taking road trips to spend time with him.
“I’ll keep her away from here. If you see her, walk the other fucking way,” Oz warned.
Viggo didn’t see what the big deal was. He wasn’t out here playing none of these bitches stupid. Curiosity had them bitches in a chokehold, but he made no promises or commitments. The nigga was only twenty-three years old, so he didn’t know what people expected of him.
“Yeah, aight.” He folded his arms across his chest.
When the door opened, and Henna appeared, Oz sat forward attentively, eyes immediately glued to her in the tight black romper with a deep V and thigh-high suede boots accenting her long legs and meaty thighs.
Scooting to the edge of the sofa, Viggo leaned toward Oz, who was caught in a trance. Henna had that effect on most men.
“Is it safe for us to come in now?” She batted her pretty ass hazel eyes at the handsome stranger while Prischa, Gem, and Lou trailed her inside.
“We’re done here.” Heavy picked up a bottle of Ace. “Oz, stick around.”
“I think I just might,” he muttered, canvassing Henna with lust as she giggled at something Lou whispered in her ear.
“That’s Heavy’s twin. Just in case you got any ideas.” Viggo patted him on his shoulder and chuckled.
As the night went on, their section filled with more people, and the club was at maximum capacity. Henna and the other ladies had gone down to the dancefloor, while Heavy, Crew, and the rest of the men had drinks and got high off Maisie’s magical strain.
“Yo, what the fuck is in this shit?” Solo queried, exhaling and examining the blunt in his hand.
“Yeah, definitely need a pack of that for the road.” Oz sat back with Henna to his left, and his fitted hat pulled low since he was faded.
“Talk to Mais before y’all roll out,” Heavy told him, picking up his buzzing phone off the table.
His face crumpled into a frown when he picked up.
“Hello!” He had to shout over the music.
“This is Tammy with Fortress Security Group. Is this Huey Sapien?” the operator asked.
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“You are listed on the call list. The police have been dispatched to 1114 Sentinel Avenue due to a hold up alarm being triggered at Sapien Surplus Sales. We called the premises and did not receive an answer.”
Lifting his wrist, Heavy checked the time and saw that it was a little after 10:00 p.m. The shop closed at 9:30, but his grandfather sometimes worked late.
“Okay. I’ll swing by and check on it too. Thanks for the call.” Heavy jumped to his feet, knocking Prischa off him in the process.
“What’s wrong?”
“I gotta go check on something.” He fished his keys from his pocket. “Viggo, ride with me.”
“Nigga, I was just about to get me a lap dance.”
“Let’s go,” Heavy urged in a controlled voice.
Once they stepped into the gloomy, gray, clouded night, Heavy led the way to his whip. Viggo was a little tipsy, so he could barely keep up, but Heavy had a gut feeling that something wasn’t right.
“Where we going?” Viggo pulled the door open when Heavy unlocked the car.
“The alarm went off at one of the shops.” Heavy climbed in, and Viggo settled beside him in the passenger seat.
“Which one?”
“Horace’s shop.” Heavy started the car, and Viggo searched for his cell in his pocket to call his grandfather.