Chapter 10
Elijah Montclair
“You expecting someone? Who is that at the door?” I asked my brother, Elias, as I was in the living room area with him at his house. We were sitting down together trying to brainstorm. We were in a fucked up situation right now.
It’s crazy because usually when big things happened within the organization, that we felt would be out of our hands, we would usually go to our pops.
Even though he was no longer in the game, he has always been that person in our life with the most knowledge, so when shit got tough for us, he had answers.
Our pops wasn’t fuckin with us right now though.
To be honest, that man was so disappointed, and embarrassed to call us his sons, that I really didn’t know if he would ever fuck with us again.
We haven’t spoken to him ever since that morning at his house when he stripped our positions from us and put his foot in our asses.
Both Elias and I have tried reaching out to him, but he wouldn’t answer.
“Nah. I ain’t expecting nobody. Let me see who that is,” Elias said, standing from the couch.
I stood up too, making sure to grab my gun that I had resting on the small table that was in front of us. I was paranoid as hell these days. Too much shit going on, so even if I took a simple trip to the bathroom at my house, I didn’t do it unless I had my strap on me.
Elias made it to the door first, and he quickly looked out of the peephole. While he did that, I went over to the window that was right next to the door, and I looked out.
There were about five black trucks that were pulled out front of his townhouse.
It’s almost like we both knew that that couldn’t be a good sign, so we instantly turned our heads to look at one another, but before we could really say anything, the front door was kicked in, and there stood two big ass Cuban niggas, and they had their guns drawn on my brother, and I.
“Drop your fuckin gun!” the bigger dude with the gun said to me.
He had a thick ass Spanish accent. There were tattoos all over his face, making his ass look ten times scarier than he would without them. I didn’t want to try him by keeping the gun in my hands, so I quickly tossed it down on the table. I put my hands up, and my brother did the same.
They made their way inside of the house, and at this point, I was still wondering what was possibly going on. I finally got the answers to my questions when someone walked in after them, making their strong presence known.
It was Eduardo. He was our supplier out of Colombia.
Our dad said that it would come to this.
Eduardo was a ruthless Colombian that didn’t play that shit when it came to his money.
Usually, around this time, we would have been in contact with him, trying to re-up, but our drugs had been taken from us, so there was no money to give him that we could re-up with.
Eduardo wasn’t the biggest man. If I had to guess, I would say that he was probably 5’6, and he was slim.
Clean cut kind of guy. He had an innocence about him.
From the outside looking in, if you didn’t know him, you would probably assume that he was one of those goofy guys that was into tech, or something like that.
The way he moved, the way he carried himself, he didn’t give that he was a big-time drug supplier.
He was in his middle fifties, but because the nigga was making so much money, and living a luxurious life, he didn’t look his age.
He could go for a man that was in his thirties.
Full head of nice, jet-black hair. His skin was healthy, and there wasn’t a wrinkle in sight.
Eduardo signaled for the two men that were holding their guns to close the door. Well, close it as best as they could because they kicked it in, knocking it off the hinges.
They went ahead, and closed the door, and now it was the three of them in here, plus my brother and I.
Eduardo walked over to my brother, stood in front of him for about three seconds, and then he walked over to me, doing the same thing.
He hadn’t said anything yet, but his presence was the loudest thing in the room.
I was keeping a close eye on him, wanting to know what his next move was going to be.
He went over to an empty space near the wall, posted with his back against it, and he crossed his arms. For ten seconds, he didn’t say anything. It’s almost like he was purposely keeping my brother and I on our toes, wanting the suspense to build.
“What happened to my drugs?” he eventually asked us.
I turned my head to look at my brother, wanting to see if he was going to be the one to answer the question, but once I saw this nigga standing there shaking, sweat on his forehead, looking like he was getting ready to pass out at any second, I knew that I was going to have to be the one to speak for the both of us.
“Eduardo, we fucked up man. We didn’t reach out and tell you about it because we’ve been trying to handle it on our end.
We been beefing with this other crew heavy for the past few months.
They’ve taken out some of our guys, and we’ve taken out some of theirs.
They took a lot of our corner boys from us.
Those corner boys must have given them the info on our drop because when we had the drop, they came through, killing all our men, and taking our product.
We trying to fix it man,” my voice was shaking as I was speaking to him because in this moment, I just knew that I was knocking on deaths door.
I just knew that a bullet was getting ready to fly out of one of those guns that was pointed at my brother, and I. Eduardo wasn’t going to allow me to say this shit to him and not kill us. It just wasn’t happening.
“I just want to get something straight. Maybe I misunderstood you. I’ll say it my way, and you can correct me if I’m wrong.
So, you said that you’ve been in an active war with another crew.
With that, there have been men dead on both sides.
A lot of blood spilled. This same crew that you are in an active war with, turns around, and they take your corner boys.
Those same corner boys that were taken from you, they knew where my shipment would arrive.
They knew what time it would arrive. They knew who would be there,” he went on, and then took a long pause.
I hated that he was calling it out because when he put it that way, he made my brother and I sound like some fuckin rookies that didn’t know what the fuck we were doing.
“Despite all these things, neither one of you thought that it would be a good idea to move the drop? Did neither of you think that the men taken from you would possibly switch sides and tell the same men actively trying to kill you where millions of dollars’ worth of product would be?
” he asked, and again, neither my brother nor I said anything.
“Interesting,” was his response.
“Come together please. The two of you. Please stand side by side,” Eduardo ordered my brother and I to do.
We walked over to him, and we stood in front of him. I didn’t mind him making me stand next to my brother because if he was getting ready to kill us, at least I would die right here with my brother.
Eduardo took a couple of steps forward, standing in front of us. He picked his hands up, placing them on either side of me, and Elias’s face, bringing our heads together. With a serious look in his eyes, he stared deeply at us.
“Here’s what we’re going to do here. As of today, business between me, and you two ends today—”
“Eduardo, man. Come on. We can fix this shit!” I cut him off, damn near on the verge of tears.
“No. You cannot fix it. If you had the mental capacity of fixing it, it would have been fixed already, and I wouldn’t have had to fly out here.
And please, if you interrupt me again while I’m speaking, I’ll have your blood splattered on this wall,” he was firm, still holding our heads together, as he looked at me.
I sighed, keeping quiet, going to go ahead, and let him finish with what he was saying.
“I no longer have any interest in continuing business with men who are sloppy. You knew all the things that could possibly go wrong, yet you decided to ignore all the signs. I will never understand how you two thought that it was okay to not protect millions of dollars’ worth of product.
I want to make something very clear to you two.
The only reason why you two are even breathing is because of who your father is.
Before you two sloppy fuck ups existed, there was Everett.
I never had these kinds of problems out of your father.
He was a true businessman. He was calculated.
Very disciplined. Vert smart,” he went on.
He then cleared his throat, and I could tell that this was probably the final thing that he was going to say to us.
“You have seven days. I want every fuckin dollar that was tied to that shipment. If I don’t have the money that I need in seven days, I will be sure to offer Everett my condolences.
He knows how this games works. He understands the rules of this life.
Your father was in this line of business for a very long time before stepping down, and giving it to you two idiots, so he’s aware that when men choose this business, they are also choosing the consequences attached to failure.
He knows that your shortcomings often become your demise.
Seven days is all you have,” he finished, and our heads that were held together, he pulled them away for a second, only to slam them together, and it seemed as if I was seeing stars.
Elias and I stumbled, trying to keep our balance. Eduardo pushed his way through the middle of us, and he walked over to the front door.
Before he walked out, he turned to glance at my brother and I one last time.
“One more thing before I leave. The crew that you were at war with. The ones who intercepted my shipment. Who are they?” he wanted to know.
“MBM,” my brother was the one to respond.
“Who’s running it?” he inquired.
“His name is Dominique. Everybody calls him Dolo,” Elias was singing like a motha fucka.
“Let that no longer be your concern. You two have more than enough problems, like getting my money. I’ll deal with Dolo myself.
You couldn’t get to him, so allow me to do it,” was all he said before turning his back on us, and his men were the ones to reach for the door handle, and they pushed it open.
The door was fucked up, so they left it open once they walked out.
We were in some deep shit. We had to get this nigga a couple of millions in seven days.
When you weren’t apart of the dope game, people would often assume that niggas just had millions of dollars laying around, collecting dust. Shit didn’t work like that, man.
If it did, I would have told Eduardo to just follow me to a spot, and I would have handed the money to him in cash.
In this business, money came, and money went. This was a business at the end of the day, so there was payroll, product, lawyer fees, weapons, all that shit. All those things were big fees that added up, so millions weren’t just lying around.
This nigga wasn’t asking us to cough up chump change. He wanted millions out of us. Millions in seven days. I know for a fact that if we didn’t cough that money up to him in the time frame that he’d given us, that we would be dead men.