“Of course I’m sure,” Ruby answered at almost the same time as Junior’s grunt. “I know my body. I’m two weeks late, and I’m never late. This isn’t my first time being pregnant, Orlando.”
“I have to call you back. We’ve got sort of an emergency here, but we’ll deal with it, baby. Trust me.” I was supremely shocked but unable to process the news at the moment. There was far too much chaos for even me to handle.
“Orlando!” Junior yelled.
“Deal with it?” Ruby snapped, her disgust far from concealed. “Fuck you. I knew I shouldn’t have called you. You’re just like the rest. Don’t worry. I’ll deal with the baby on my own.”
I wanted to apologize, tell her that it had just come out wrong, but Uncle Lou, LC’s brother, lay dead on the ground at my feet. His eyes were still open and they were accusing me. Junior knelt down and closed them with his bloodstained fingers.
Without a good-bye, I hit the button to end my call. I was undoubtedly doing damage to my budding relationship, but I couldn’t concern myself with that now.
“What happened?” I asked Junior.
“We were hittin’ the streets. Like you said to do,” Junior replied, still out of breath. “We were out there searching for our stolen shit. One of Lou’s boys had a tip, so he went with me to check it out. Lou felt he needed to be out there again, you know, trying to help as best he could. He knew how bad things were. The tip turned out to be a dead end, so we came back to the shop—and this happened. They were laying for us, O. No doubt this was a setup.”
“Who did it?” I asked.
“Dunno, bro. Old car pulled alongside us when we were parked. They just unloaded on us. We had no time to react. Couldn’t even see their faces or nothin’. I was too busy tending to Lou, otherwise I woulda chased ’em.”
“What the fuck are we doin’?” Sihad yelled, taking shit hard. Boy probably thought he was immune from such violence since coming up from the ranks. “My boys talkin’ about defectin’, and now our own people settin’ us up and sellin’ us out. Who the fuck is in charge around here, anyway?”
“Certainly not you. Now, shut your fuckin’ mouth!” I yelled, still trying to process the fact that I was going to be a father while everything else was in jeopardy. The last thing I needed was Sihad’s played-out act.
Sihad came at me, all common sense gone. Junior went to make a move, but the look I gave him held him in place. Two more steps closer and I coldcocked Sihad with the nine millimeter I had begun carrying everywhere for protection. Sometimes a direct statement was needed with insubordinate employees. Sihad added to the blood on the floor of the warehouse with his own, the fresh gash on his forehead spewing a fine mist.
“You’s a weak-ass bitch, yo!” Sihad cried out from the floor, where he held his bleeding face. As I raised the gun to strike him again, Junior kicked him, eliciting a yelp from Sihad, like a wounded dog being punished by his owner.
“You lucky my pop likes you, or I’d put a bullet in your head!” I yelled.
“We lost Pablo, now Lou. Control yourself before you join them,” my brother warned, towering over our mouthy lieutenant.
Then things got even worse as three new visitors entered the garage. It was unsafe for him to be here, but LC walked in anyway, with two bodyguards shielding him. The bodyguards refused to put their guns away until absolutely certain there were no threats around.
“What the hell is going on here?” LC asked, noticing that Junior was pulling Sihad up off the floor.
The shop fell silent. We were all too embarrassed that things had devolved to this point, that we had let down our leader. We solemnly moved aside as Pop took slow, deliberate steps toward his brother’s body.