21. Chapter 20 #2
Marcus had just wrapped up the costume contest announcement.
The winner would walk away with ten thousand dollars cash, VIP privileges for a year, and enough bragging rights to become annoying.
Waitresses moved through the crowd carrying black ballot boxes while guests scribbled down the names of their favorite costumes.
Every few minutes somebody could be heard arguing about who deserved to win.
June finally took her eyes off the happy couple and zeroed in on Marcus holding a drink in his hand.
From the outside? He looked like the same powerful Marcus everybody feared.
But his eyes looked different. They were restless, wired, and angry beneath the surface.
Still… tonight he tried forcing himself to relax.
Him letting loose on the dance floor was a good way to take his mind off everything that had been going on.
And besides, everything was going well with the party.
The club was packed. Money flooded in. And women screamed his name from downstairs.
For one night, Marcus wanted Heaven’s Door to feel legendary again instead of carrying around so much bad juju.
Down on stage, Drake’s newest cut Cheetah Print was booming through the speakers.
A beautiful dark-skinned dancer named Nyx had the crowd damn near hypnotized.
Dressed as a sexy cheetah for Halloween, she wore leopard-print spandex shorts, a white sheer tube top with no bra on, and a pair of cheetah ears sitting on top of her head.
Every time she touched the pole, money started flying.
She bent over shaking her jiggly ass, then she dropped down to the floor and came back up with her hands on her knees twerking her fat ass to the beat.
“YEAHHHH, that's what the fuck I'm talking bout!!!” a drunk man screamed near the stage while waving cash around recklessly. “Bend that ass over again sexy!”
His friends hollered laughing beside him.
“Aye, sweet cheeks, let big daddy smack that shit and leave a cheetah print!”
The entire section erupted with laughter.
Nyx rolled her eyes while still throwing ass. “Throw another stack then maybe I’ll think about it.”
“Shitttttt you ain't said nothing but a word!” the drunk man yelled as he stumbled forward. “I’ll pay child support tonight for that ass!”
Women nearby burst out laughing while more money fluttered onto the stage.
Upstairs, Marcus scanned the crowd while playing with his beard.
Something felt off tonight. The club had too many unfamiliar faces.
It was too much movement near the exits.
And he kept getting a feeling in his chest like something bad was about to happen.
June walked over beside him. “You okay boo?”
Marcus looked around the club before forcing a smile. “Yeah.”
That's when it happened.
Near the bar downstairs, two men started arguing and they were standing shoulder to shoulder. At first nobody paid it any attention because fights happened in Heaven's Door damn near every weekend. One man shoved the other hard causing his glass to tip over. Drinks spilled.
People backed away yelling, “OHHHHH SHITTTTT.”
Security started moving in.
“Yo, take that shit outside!” one guard barked.
But one of the men looked pissed the fuck off. His hand disappeared inside his hoodie. A woman near the bar saw it first.
“OH MY GOD, THAT MOTHAFUCKA GOT A GUN!!!!”
Steelo saw it from upstairs at the same time.
“Aye yo Marcus, watch out—”
Marcus looked down just in time to see the man pull the gun out. He dropped to the balcony floor just in time.
POP.
The first gunshot rang through the club so loud it cut straight through the music. Everything paused for half a second. Then came more shots.
POP. POP. POP.
A woman screamed bloody murder. The dancer on stage dropped flat while people started running in every direction at once.
At that point it was pure fucking chaos.
Heels clacked against the floor. Drinks flew through the air.
Bodies bumping into one another. People were screaming and tripping over each other trying to get out.
Marcus's entire face twisted with terror as he watched his club unravel beneath him.
“NOOOOO!” He stormed downstairs so fast he almost pushed past security himself. Another shot rang out near the bar. Glass shattered everywhere.
Blood splattered across part of the floor while a girl in an angel costume cried hysterically holding her arm. The DJ ducked behind his booth. Women crawled beneath tables. Men shoved each other trying to get through the door in one piece.
And somewhere within that terror and chaos? The shooter disappeared into the crowd. Marcus looked around breathing hard while fake blood decorations hung above real blood soaked into the floor. That shit woke something up in him real quick.
“GET EVERYBODY THE FUCK OUT!” he roared.
Nobody moved fast enough. Marcus grabbed a champagne bottle and launched it across the room. It made a loud crash against the wall. Glass exploded against the wall while women screamed again.
“MOVE!” he yelled like a man losing his damn mind. “EVERYBODY OUT! NOW!”
Once they were out, people could hear the police sirens getting closer. Police lights painted Heaven’s Door red and blue while terrified people stood along the sidewalk crying, shaking, and bleeding.
And by sunrise?
Heaven’s Door was all over the fucking news.
Marcus sat in complete darkness outside of the television glow with a half-empty glass of vodka hanging from his hand.
The inside of the house looked like pure hell.
The lights were off and music played on low volume somewhere in the background.
Papers covered the marble counter. Two liquor bottles sat open beside an overflowing ashtray.
And spread across the coffee table directly in front of him?
Were city violation notices. Temporary suspension paperwork.
And a thick envelope stamped with the words:
CITY OF PHILADELPHIA DEPARTMENT OF LICENSES & INSPECTIONS.
It felt like the city was choking the life out his business one fine at a time.
The television replayed the shooting footage again.
You could hear women screaming despite hearing the reporter talking.
You could see people running out the club in costumes crying and holding heels in their hands and police lights flashing outside Heaven’s Door.
Marcus stared at the screen without blinking while the news reporter spoke in that fake ass voice reporters always use when talking about something tragic that happened.
“Good evening. We continue following breaking developments tonight after a deadly shooting inside the popular Philadelphia nightclub Heaven’s Door left one man dead and three others injured over the Halloween weekend.
Thirty-six-year-old Damon Bivins was pronounced dead shortly after arriving at Jefferson Hospital early Sunday morning after suffering multiple gunshot wounds during the incident. ”
Marcus ran a hand down his face and took another shot. The reporter kept going.
“Philadelphia police say the investigation remains active as detectives continue reviewing surveillance footage and interviewing witnesses. Meanwhile Heaven’s Door owner Marcus Johnson has not been criminally charged at this time, however city officials confirmed today that the nightclub will remain temporarily closed pending further safety investigations. ”
Another clip played of the club covered in yellow tape.
“Residents and local business owners nearby say concerns regarding violence outside the nightclub have existed for months.”
Marcus muted the tv then slammed the remote down hard onto the coffee table.
The house was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
He clenched his jaw so tightly that it looked painful.
He leaned forward over the table where two crushed-up lines of Adderall sat beside the violation notices.
He pinched one nostril closed and inhaled the powder through the other nostril.
The powder disappeared within seconds. Then he inhaled the second line.
Marcus took another double shot to the face then laid back against the couch afterward closing his eyes for a second while the vodka burned down his throat.
But the second he shut his eyes? He saw it again.
The screaming. The blood. Women crawling underneath tables.
And people trampling each other trying to escape.
And worst of all? He couldn't stop hearing the sounds. Those damn gunshots kept replaying in his head more than the thoughts racing through his troubled mind.
Marcus opened his eyes while breathing deeply through his nose and he rubbed his chest like he could physically calm his heartbeat down himself. The front door suddenly unlocked. June walked in laughing softly while carrying shopping bags.
“Mercedes almost fought the nail lady over almond-shaped acrylics,” she laughed while kicking the door shut behind her. “I swear that girl got—”
She stopped mid-sentence. Marcus sat there looking completely fucking gone.
The television glow hit his face just enough for her to see how bloodshot his eyes looked.
Then her gaze dropped to the table. She saw the pint of vodka.The rolled-up hundred.
And the powder residue. June stared in disbelief.
“I know you fucking lying!!! You snorting coke now Marcus?”
Marcus looked irritated instantly. “Relax babe, it’s not coke.”
“You sure?” June tossed her purse onto the chair not believing that it wasn't coke. “Cause from over here it definitely look like coke.”
“It’s Adderall.”
She blinked. “Nigga please.”
“I’m serious.” Marcus pleaded.
“You couldn’t fool me.” June said with irritation in her voice.
Marcus sucked his teeth before taking another swallow from the glass. “I ain’t in the mood tonight, J.”