SIXTEEN
“I WANT THE MUTHAF*ckA’S HEAD ON A f*cking platter by nightfall! I’m burying my WIFE today! If he isn’t in the dirt before this day ends, I’mma make the f*cking streets bleed!” Baron shouted to his henchmen as he stood in his conference room. It had been years since he had warred with a nigga. He had gained too much respect in the streets for any of the young gunners to ever test him, but Samad had no reservations. He had brought conflict to Baron’s homefront and had taken the one person in his life that had been irreplaceable. “Get the f*ck out,” he whispered as he stood at the head of the rectangular table and placed both hands on the surface. He hung his head solemnly as his men left him alone. The range of emotions that filled his chest made it hard for him to breathe, and he loosened his neck tie to open his airways. It had been exactly one week since he had gotten the worst news of his life, and he had yet to shed a tear. He was too full of rage to allow his sadness to set in. He had the rest of his life to mourn; right now he just wanted vengeance. A knock at the door caused him to look up as he watched Nico walk into the room.
Nico didn’t say a word. He was too full of guilt. He was the one who had put the call into Samad, giving him A’shai’s whereabouts. Nico had always been jealous of A’shai. Ever since Baron and Willow had brought A’shai home, he had stolen Nico’s shine. Nico was tired of being behind A’shai. He wasn’t family . . . the same blood didn’t course through their veins. When Nico saw an opportunity to get rid of A’shai, he took it. He had no idea that his beloved aunt would get caught up in the cross hairs. I tried to stop her from going. If she would have just waited like I told her to none of this would have happened. A’shai’s bitch ass would be a distant memory.
“You heard from Shai?” Nico asked.
Baron shook his head, not wanting to speak about his son at the moment. Although he knew that A’shai wasn’t directly to blame for Willow’s death, he wasn’t innocent either. I can’t believe I’m putting her to rest today. She is the love of my life. What am I going to do without you? Baron thought. He cleared his throat as Nico put a firm hand on his shoulder and said, “We have to get going, Unc.”
Baron squared his shoulders, composed himself, and fixed his tie before walking out of the room. Even at his weakest state, he still radiated strength. His long stride was unflinching. The average eye could not sense the turmoil he was going through but those who knew him best could see that the light inside of him had been snuffed out. Willow had been his reason for everything. Without her, he was nothing. He would live out the rest of his days reliving their times together and seeking revenge. Killing Samad would not be enough because it wasn’t a fair trade. Willow’s life was ten times more valuable than Baron’s enemy so an eye for an eye wouldn’t do. Baron wanted to annihilate Samad’s entire existence and wipe him completely off the map. Baron walked into his foyer and shook hands with one of his workers. The man was dressed exactly like Baron and was the same skin color as his boss. Baron handed him a nice-sized wad of hundred dollar bills and nodded at him as the man was escorted out of his home with a bodyguard who was holding an umbrella up to conceal his face. At first glance the man looked just like Baron. He was a decoy for prying eyes just in case Samad had people watching him. Baron waited until the decoy had pulled away in the limo before he and Nico went to the five-car garage and entered his bulletproof black Infiniti truck. Nico pulled open the rear door for Baron and then got into the driver’s seat to escort his uncle to the funeral.
Bitter resentment filled Baron as he stepped out of the car. He touched his hip to make sure his pistol was in place and then discreetly scanned his surroundings. It was a private ceremony so any unfamiliar face would be considered an enemy, but all Baron saw were loved ones around him. As he ascended the church steps he noticed that his hired guns were in place and ready. Anyone who wanted to show up unexpectedly wouldn’t get past the front door. He had made sure to send Willow home in style. No expense had been spared. White calla lilies had been her favorite flower and they filled the church’s altar, surrounding her casket like an angel’s halo. The 14-karat-gold casket sparkled up front. He couldn’t believe that he was about to say his goodbyes. Inside he was broken, but outwardly he remained intact. There was nothing that Willow loved more about him than his strength and he knew that she would want him to stand tall in her final moments on earth. As he stood over the closed casket he bowed his head in silent mourning. The fire had completely singed her skin, not allowing for an open casket ceremony. He would never see her face again, but it didn’t matter. It was etched in his memory like the name of lovers drawn in wet cement. Nico tugged at his suit jacket to get his attention and Baron turned on his heels sharply in discontent as he stared a hole through him.
“Don’t disrespect my final moments with my wife!” he barked.
Nico took two steps back, his eyes wide as he stammered, “It’s . . . I was just . . .”
“Whatever it is, it can wait,” Baron said lowering his voice.
“It’s Shai. He’s here,” Nico stated.
Baron walked briskly towards the church’s entrance. Part of him needed to lay eyes on his son. They were all each other had now that Willow was gone, but the obstinate side of him wanted to place blame on A’shai’s shoulders for what had happened. At that moment Baron wanted nothing more than to embrace his boy and share his grief with the only other man who understood. A’shai knew what the world had lost. They were the only two who truly felt the blow.
A’shai got out of Willow’s car wearing a double breasted Versace suit, all black with a slim tie. For the past week, he and Liberty had hidden out in a downtown hotel. He had gone over the last moments of his mother’s life repeatedly, wishing that he had never volunteered his car to her. Her death weighed heavily on him and although he knew that he needed to skip town, he would never forgive himself if he left without paying his final respects. As he walked up the church stairs none of Baron’s soldiers would look him in the face. He went to enter the building and was stopped by one of Baron’s block lieutenants.
A’shai looked down at the hand that was touching him and frowned up as he slapped the hand from his chest. “You must want to lose that hand my man,” A’shai stated calmly as he gripped the man’s wrist at his pressure point, causing him pain.
“Yo, you can’t come in here Shai,” another one of Baron’s workers stated.
“F*ck you mean I can’t come in here?!” he questioned. “That’s my mother!”
“We’re just following orders,” the worker said solemnly, not really wanting to be involved in the family conflict. He gently nudged A’shai, trying to get him to leave, which only further enraged A’shai.
A’shai reached inside his waistline and gripped the handle of his pistol, ready to pop off. He didn’t remove it, but was just waiting for things to get out of control.
“You can move aside or I can lay you down in this mu’f*cka. Either way I’m coming inside that church,” A’shai stated.
At that moment, Baron appeared.
“I’ve got it from here,” Baron said as he stepped directly in the entrance to the church. As father and son stood face-to-face they both could sense the extreme hurt in the other. Baron wanted to reach out and embrace A’shai but instead he cleared his throat. “You can’t be here. You’re not welcome, A’shai. I told you what would happen over that girl . . . now look where we are . . . what it’s led to,” Baron stated.
“What you mean I can’t be here, Baron?” A’shai said, calling his father by his name for the first time in years. “That’s my mother in there, fam! You think I wanted this fa’ her?”
A’shai had so many emotions pulsing through him but the one he recognized the most was rage. He needed his father right now, but Baron was showing him shade . . . shunning him and A’shai took it personally.
Whatever small piece of his heart that Baron had left was being broken as he denied A’shai entry. It was taking everything in him to stay firm in his decision. Pig-headed, Baron refused to move aside as he shook his head and repeated, “You can’t be here. You have to leave, son.” Baron turned to one of his goons. “See him to his car.”
A’shai’s nostrils flared as he backed away from the church while nodding his head. By denying him access to Willow’s funeral, Baron had just ripped his heart from his chest. A’shai could barely breathe as he grit his teeth while retreating. He pointed at Baron, stabbing his finger through the air. “F*ck you, Baron. We’re through. You hear me. You tell my mother I love her . . . but you . . . you no longer have a son,” he said vehemently as he turned to walk away. No one moved to escort A’shai to his car. They knew firsthand how A’shai’s temper could flare, and no one wanted to see him. This was between Baron and A’shai; no one else dared to intervene. Baron noticed how his men respected A’shai. They were all fearful of him and secretly Baron was proud but he refused to speak up. His relationship with A’shai had run its course. A’shai was a grown man now, and it was time for them to part. Baron’s eyes misted slightly as he watched A’shai get in his car and drive away. He felt in his bones that this would be the last time he would ever see his son and it hurt. Baron gathered himself quickly not wanting to wear his heart on his sleeve. He refocused on the task at hand and prepared himself to bury the greatest woman he had ever had the pleasure to meet.
Baron paced the same back and forth pattern in his home office for two hours as he awaited the phone call. He had just watched helplessly as men put dirt over his wife’s casket, and he was full of wrath. He wasted no time when it came to putting in work. He already had shooters on the ground in L.A. watching Samad’s home. They had been tracking his every step all week and had learned his routine. Baron was determined to have Samad in a six-foot hole before 12 A.M. Baron’s home was full of guests, but he was in no mood to socialize. Everyone was respectful and gave him their condolences, but there was only one thing on Baron’s mind.
Murder
Baron couldn’t focus on anything but executing Samad. He only wished that he was there to pull the trigger himself. He went to the mini-bar and poured himself a glass of his finest cognac before taking a seat behind the desk. He took a large gulp and closed his eyes as it burned his throat on the way down. It was funny how quickly life had changed. Things had gone awry in the blink of an eye. He pulled off his neck tie and threw it across the room as he turned to look out of the large floor-to-ceiling windows. His estate was immaculate and vast, but now that he had no one to share it with all he felt was lonely. It was a painful reminder of better times. I’m getting too old for this, he thought, knowing that it was time for him to bow out gracefully. After handling Samad he was through. Without A’shai he had no one to will his empire to. All that he had built over the years would be divided and nitpicked by the vultures until there was nothing left. Years of living the champagne life had come to an ugly end. He sipped his drink and watched his phone, waiting impatiently, torturously, for his peoples to call. He was tempted to check in on them but there was no need. They were well-trained and obedient young killers. They would get the job done. All he had to do was let them play their positions and within the hour balance would be restored to the winning team. His doorbell rang, and he winced because he could feel the headache coming on. There were too many people around him. He wanted to clear the house but he felt that they deserved to be there. They were celebrating Willow’s life. How could he turn them away? He arose from his seat, taking the cordless phone with him as he went to answer the front door.
“We have a flower delivery for Baron Montgomery,” a young white boy said, while holding a black vase with white lilies spilling out of it. Baron stepped to the side and held out his arm to welcome the boy inside. “I have twenty more arrangements in the van.”
Baron couldn’t believe the amount of love that Willow was receiving. The church had been full of flowers and now his home was being invaded with them as well. It showed how much people really would miss his wife. She was a good woman, and the entire hood loved her. They were really showing out for her, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Baron. The people loved him and were sorry for his loss. Once all of the arrangements were inside, Baron tipped the delivery boy and then closed the door.
The ringing of the phone in his hand made Baron pause mid-step as he hurried back to his office to find some solace.
“Is it taken care of?” he asked without saying hello.
“If you’re asking if your little hit squad murdered me, the answer is no.”
Baron clenched his jaw when he heard Samad’s voice.
“Now you’ve got three more funerals to pay for,” Samad said. “I hope you enjoy the flowers. It’s just a little token from me to send my most genuine condolences,” he stated. “Say hello to my friends when they get there.”
Before Baron could respond the line went dead and the sound of yelling alarmed him, causing his attention to shift to the sounds coming from his living room.
“Detroit Police Department! Everyone on the ground now!”
Baron immediately speed dialed his attorney and said, “Meet me downtown as soon as possible.” He hung up just as the task force came into his office with their guns drawn.
“What the f*ck is this? You disrespectful mu’f*ckas come into my home on the day I bury my wife?” he asked the lead detective. Baron wondered why he hadn’t been tipped off about this little intrusion. As many cops as he had on his payroll, there was no way he should have been taken by surprise. “I’m going to have your job for this,” he said calmly.
“Oh yeah, Mr. Mafioso?” the white detective shot back sarcastically. “You are gonna get me fired? You’re connected, huh?”
“Like the interstate,” Baron spat.
“Well, we have a warrant to search the premises.” The detective shoved the papers directly in Baron’s face, but Baron was not intimidated. He had nothing to hide. He never kept any work inside his home. That was the number one rule. Never shit where you eat. A smug smile crossed his exhausted face as he stood toe-to-toe with the detective.
“Be my guest,” Baron said. He was so confident that the police wouldn’t find anything that it wasn’t even a worry in the back of his mind. His home was clean, and he felt slighted as he thought of how Detroit’s finest were intruding and disrespecting Willow’s memory.
Baron followed the police into his family room and watched as they went straight for the flower arrangements that had just been delivered. They cracked the black vases and Baron’s heart collapsed when he saw them begin to pull kilos of cocaine from the inside. There were twenty vases in all and each one contained a separate key, wrapped in clear plastic. Samad had set him up and as Baron held up his hands in surrender, the detective forced him to his knees.
In disbelief Baron shook his head as the entire thing seemed to play out before him in slow motion. His guests looked at him with sympathy and shock as they watched him be handcuffed and read his rights. F*ck. How did I let him catch me like this? Baron asked himself. He knew that his head hadn’t been in the right place. Willow’s murder had him distracted and after all of his years of flawless hustling, this is what it had come to. Because he was caught red-handed with twenty bricks inside his home, he was done. They were about to cook him and Baron couldn’t do anything but chuckle slightly to himself at the irony of it all. Samad had set him up good, and Baron knew that with the raw uncut cocaine Samad had access to that he was in for the fight of his life. Years of flying under the radar had just gone straight out the window. Baron felt the cut of the handcuffs as they dug into his wrists and he realized that he could be going away for a very long time. As he took the walk of shame to the police car, he held his head high. He looked at each one of his workers in the eye as he was led out. He had never bowed down to anyone and had enjoyed the fruits of his street labor. He had lived high off the fast life and had risked it all for the sake of the American dream. Now because of Samad he had taken the plunge from grace, but he would take his fall like a man. Just as he had ridden the wave to the top, he would ride it to the bottom because it was all a part of the game. He had hoped to be one of the lucky ones and come out unscathed, but the loss of a loved one had been the tragic event that started the downward cycle. Now he was facing the loss of his freedom, an inevitable opponent that every kingpin must contend with.