I was surprised to hear him ask about the old man, especially since it was LC’s fault that he was locked up in this hellhole in the first place.
“He’s good,” I said, hoping he didn’t plan on going down the list of family members one by one. I didn’t have time for all that. That was not why I was there. “But how are you, Vegas? How you been holding up?”
“I’m fine, but don’t call me Vegas in here.” He pointed a finger at me. “Vegas is dead until the day I walk outta this place. In here I’m Michael Johnson, and Michael Johnson doesn’t know nothing about the Duncans.” He sat down in the single chair across from me. “Now, tell me about all this shit that’s going down with the Mexicans and our stolen shipment.”
My eyes bucked and he smirked. That damn Vegas was always two steps ahead of us. “How’d you—”
He cut me off with a chuckle. “What? You think just because I’m locked up, I don’t hear things? You wanna know what’s going on in the streets, pick a cell. We’ve got the best gossip network in the world right here behind these walls. And I run this place, so I hear it first, before them all. Now, tell me what’s going on. Is it as bad as I hear?”
“Bruh, shit is crazy,” I said.
“Yeah, from what I’m hearing, it sounds like we’re going to war. I’m trying to keep it from spilling over in here. Mexicans trying to recruit everyone who speaks Spanish. Only ones on our side are the Dominicans. I got a sit-down with the Jamaicans tonight. Other than that, I’ve got all the brothers lined up. We need every black face we can get on our side.”
Just hearing the word Jamaicans made my mind travel to Ruby. In between making arrangements to come up here to see Vegas, I’d called Remy and asked him to set things up so that Ruby and I could meet. He didn’t seem to have a problem with it, but five minutes later he called me back, telling me Ruby’s number had been disconnected and he had no other way of contacting her. I tried to call her myself and found out that Remy wasn’t lying. Ruby had turned off her phone that quick.
“O!” Vegas shouted, snapping me out of my thoughts. “What’s Pop talking about? We going to war or what?”
“Oh, we’re going to war, all right.” I shot him a serious look. “And your baby brother is right in the middle of it, about to get his ass killed.”
Vegas sat erect in his chair. “What are you talking about? Are you in some kind of trouble?”
“Not me, but Rio’s in a hell of a lot of trouble.”
He leaned in close and asked, “What kind of trouble? What, he get his boyfriend pregnant or something?” He began to laugh.
It didn’t take long for Vegas to realize that I wasn’t laughing with him.
“You’re serious. He really is in trouble, isn’t he?”
I nodded. “Guess there are some things you don’t hear in this place.”
“What’s going on with Rio? What’s he gotten himself into?”
“He hasn’t gotten himself into anything. It’s what LC has gotten him into.”
Vegas sat back in his chair, listening intently as I continued.
“Alejandro’s son, Miguel, is dead—under our family’s watch, if you know what I mean.”
Vegas nodded to confirm that he knew exactly what I meant.
“To make a long story short, LC sent Rio to California as a good faith trade for Miguel. Two hours later, Miguel was dead.”
“That stupid son of a bitch!” Vegas banged his fist on the table, then shot out of his chair and began pacing the room. “He promised me he’d never do that again.”
Vegas’s outburst had drawn the attention of the guard outside the room. He rapped on the window a few times and glared at us until Vegas took his seat again.
“Rio ain’t cut out for that shit, man. I mean, yeah, he’s a Duncan, but fuck!” He caught his fist in midair before it landed on the table once again.
“Calm down, man. That’s why I’m here. LC has told us not to do anything, that Rio’s on his own,” I said. “But that don’t sit well with me at all.”