“Me either, O. Me either.” Vegas shook his head. “So, what’s Junior got to say about all this?”
“I haven’t talked to him in private, but you know Junior. He’s never gonna go against Pop, even if he’s wrong.”
“Yeah, kinda figured that. Junior’s not exactly a free thinker when it comes to Pop.”
“So, what should I do, Vegas?”
“What the hell do you mean, what should you do? You get our little brother back here ... alive. That’s what the fuck you do. You put our people on the next thing smoking and go get Rio.”
“But what about Pop?”
“Fuck Pop. He’s the one who got us into this. Now, you came here to get my advice. Well, I just gave it to you. And here’s a little more. You want the old man to respect you, then sometimes you gotta stand your ground. Now, go do what you gotta do to get my little brother.”
All it took was that assurance from the one person I knew would see things the way I did. Some people ask themselves what Jesus would do, but I ask myself what would Vegas do-then I do it.
I stood to leave. The clock was ticking; time was wasting. Although I hadn’t seen my big brother in a long time, I had another brother who, despite LC’s orders, I had to save.
“Thank you, Mr. Johnson.” I extended my hand.
Vegas stood and shook it, then pulled me in for a quick chest bump and a pound on the back.
There was a knock on the door.
“What the hell do they want?” Vegas asked. “We ain’t even been in here half an hour. They told me I had an hour visit. When I get out there, heads are gonna roll.”
“That might be my fault,” I said, pulling away. “I got a little present for you.”
“A cell phone?” He could hardly contain his excitement. He went from being this big bear to acting like a little kid over the possibility of a cell phone.
I laughed. “No, bruh, it ain’t a cell phone. But I can make that happen. What I got is better than a cell phone.”
I walked over to the door and knocked a couple of times. The guard looked in at me. I nodded, he nodded back, and a few moments later the door opened.
“Well, I’ll be damned. I guess that is better than a cell phone,” Vegas said as he gave Maria, who stood in the doorway, the once-over.
“Mr. Johnson,” I said with a wink, “I leave you with Mrs. Johnson.”
“You did good, O. You did real good,” Vegas told me as I left.
As I sat in the back of the Town Car, waiting for Maria to finish her business inside the jail, I tried to get in touch with Rio. His phone went straight to voice mail, so I left a message for him to call me ASAP. That was not a good feeling, being unable to reach my brother, knowing he was alone and vulnerable. I prayed he was going to be okay until I could get someone out there to bring him home.
I heard a tap on the tinted window, and I looked up to see Maria standing outside. I unlocked the doors, and she climbed in.
“Mrs. Johnson, how was your conjugal visit?” I joked.
Always discreet about her business arrangements, Maria didn’t kiss and tell. She sat there quietly, looking down with an expectant look on her face. And I knew exactly what she was expecting.
I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out an envelope, which I handed to her. “That had to be the fastest twenty Gs you’ll ever make. I hope you left him with a smile on his face.”
Maria didn’t respond with words, but the look on her face said it all. She’d had a pretty good time, probably better than she’d expected—or at least faster. Sure, she did have to ride four hours upstate with me, but at least she didn’t have to do it on her back.
She was still looking down at the envelope, but her expression had changed.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. “It’s all there. You can count it if you like.”
She opened the envelope and flipped through the money halfheartedly. “This is wrong.”