Chapter 15
Mikey had been sitting in the county for nearly a whole year. He was released after the two detectives, KT and Packman, were indicted on extorting drug dealers. Nearly a dozen of street guys that these two recently had arrested were discharged on technicalities. Mikey got out knowing exactly what to expect out of the streets. As soon as Marcus got word on Mikey’s release date, he planned out an entire weekend of shopping, partying, and informing Mikey on his plans on getting paid outside of being on Avers.
Marcus drove with a couple of his guys, Lil G and Marlin, while on his way to pick Mikey up from off Twenty-sixth and California, where the county jail was located.
“Y’all don’t see that nigga out here nowhere, do y’all?” Marcus asked as he slowly drove down California in his newly bought ‘95 Chevy Suburban, looking for Mikey to be outside of the county.
“Hell naw. I hope we ain’t overlooking him by it being so many ma’fuckas out here. He don’t know what kind of car we in?” Lil G asked, half breathing, as he hit the blunt that they had in rotation.
“That ain’t him ova’ there wit’ all that hair on his face, is it?” Marlin asked as he stared out the backseat window.
“Hell yeah . . . !” Lil G said as he rushed to let his window down. “Aey, homey, you need a ride!” Lil G hollered out the window as they slowly pulled up in front of the barb wired gates of Division 11.
Once Mikey noticed who they were, he frantically ran toward the truck as if he had just escaped from the jail. He instantly acknowledged Lil G, who happened to be his blood cousin, by shaking up with him and giving him a casual hug.
“Fuck all that lovey-dovey shit; let’s get the fuck away from all these police. We got shit to do!” Marcus said in a jokingly manner, but in all actuality, he was glad to see his man free from that cage.
“Lord! What’s goin’ on?” Mikey greeted joyfully as he entered the car.
“Same ole shit . . . ,” said Marcus as he passed Mikey a fresh rolled-up blunt for him to blaze up. “You know what time it is, my nigga?”
Mikey didn’t have to wonder what was next on their agenda; he knew by him sticking by the code of the streets and not snitching that he would get blessed by his crew, especially knowing that Marcus was the type of leader that took good care of his guys.
“Aey, lord, you know I can’t wait to drive that new Benz I been hearing a lot about,” Mikey said while exhaling the weed smoke.
“How you hear about it? I didn’t have it for more than a couple weeks.”
“Everybody that came in there from the ‘hood was talking about that muthafucka!” Mikey chuckled out while passing Marcus the blunt.
“That’s why I had to get rid of it. I drew too much attention.”
“I like this ma’fucka right here . . . !” Mikey claimed as he glanced around inside the truck. “I see you got some bang back there. Let me hear dat shit!”
“I got'chu,” Marcus responded by turning up the sounds to his four fifteen-inch kickers, and all you heard was the lyrics to 2Pac’s record, “So Many Tears”: “…I lost so many kids and shed so many tears… Lord knows I tried being a witness to homicide, drive-bys takin lives, little kids died ” . . .” Everybody chanted the words to Pac’s song while en route to their destination.
The remainder of that day consisted of good smoking, drinking, and fucking with some females Marcus had on standby for all five of his crew members: Marlin, Mikey, JR, Pee Wee, and Lil G. Marcus informed his guys of his plans to open up a block around Division area, and of course they were down for the cause. They were all only familiar with hustling on blocks in the Holy City; they were always down with taking over a new area.
The partying was far from over for Mikey. He insisted on going out to the club the following day. Marcus wasn’t the clubbin’ type at all, but for his guys, he figured that it was all right to ball out for one night.
It was a nice mid-sixty-degree night in Chicago. The wind slightly blowing, a real Chicago summer-night type of feel, everything in the atmosphere felt right. Marcus and his crew were dressed to impress this particular night. Everyone was dressed in their own style, but Marcus stood out for the most part. With an all-beige linen short outfit, all-tan Bally sneakers, deep black Versace shades, an original Rolex on his left wrist, and topped off with a one-carat diamond glistening from his left ear, Marcus had all the right accessories to top off his gear—fresh to death!
Marcus and his crew drove five cars deep to a popular club downtown called Strictly Business. Mikey rode the passenger side of Marcus in the suburban, with JR and Pee Wee in the backseat. Everybody was strapped with protection, including the cars that followed behind Marcus.
“You know this ain’t my type of scene right here,” Marcus said as they accelerated down Michigan Avenue, on their way to the club.
“I know, I know, but once you see all these bad-ass hoes out here, you’a be thanking me later,” Mikey replied, with JR and Pee Wee in the backseat agreeing to his statement.
As Marcus and his entourage behind him pulled up to the club, Marcus demanded the valet to park his truck as close to the club as possible.
The line to the club was wrapped around the corner, filled with beautiful women. By the music that was coming from inside the club and the women that were going in, Marcus and his crew of fifteen guys were anxious to get in.
“Damn, that line long as hell . . . ,” JR stated as they stood in front of the club, waiting on everyone else to walk up. “I know we ain’t waitin’ in that shit?” JR wasn’t really the going-out type. He would rather do his job, which consisted of helping Marcus put together all the work and keeping count of all the re-up money.
“Hell Naw . . . ,” Marcus replied. “Y’all wait right here while I go holla at whoever’ at the door,” Marcus said as he walked off toward the entrance, getting all the attention from the women in the line.
After discussing a deal with the bouncer, Marcus was able to get him and his entourage in with no problem. With a wave of a hand, Marcus instructed his crew to follow him inside the club. Once making it inside, instead of mingling with the packed crowd, Marcus and his crew were directed to the upper level where the VIP area was sectioned off with tables and leather sofas. There were two other couples stationed in VIP, but once Marcus and the fifteen others strolled in, it quickly became filled to capacity.
“Aey, homey . . . !” Marcus called for the bouncer while the rest of his team looked through the bulletproof, one-sided glass, lusting over all the beautiful women that they planned on getting with. “Have the waitress bring over fifteen bottles of Moet and ten-fifths of Remy XO. Here, this should take care of us for the rest of the night,” Marcus said as he handed the bouncer ten thousand dollars folded up in ten separate rubber band stacks.
Needless to say, Marcus and his crew had blunts rotating throughout the entire VIP to the point where the two other couples eventually left the area. The nice-looking waitress delivered their order, and from that point on the night was starting to look lovely.
“Aey, lord, I’mma ‘bout to go get some of these bad-ass hoes to come party with us VIP style, ya dig!” Mikey said in a slick way while holding a bottle of Moet in one hand and smoking a blunt with the other.
“Go enjoy ya’ self, that’s what we here for, ain’t it,” Marcus stated calmly, holding a glass of champagne in one hand, and the other hand rested on Mikey shoulder.
“You damn right!” Mikey smiled while turning away to leave out of VIP with nine other lords following suit, all of them with bottles of Moet or Remy XO in their hand; Lil G, Pee Wee, and Marlin was included with the group.
Marcus, JR, and a few others stood in VIP, looking down at the crowded club scene while listening to the DJ spin Notorious B.I.G hit record, “One More Chance.”
“We came a long ways from running around on the block to where we at now . . . ,” Marcus mentioned to JR before taking a sip from his glass. “But I still feel like we
got a lot more to do.”
JR stood there staring at the club scene for a moment in silence as if he was in meditation. Before facing Marcus, he said, “You know Smitty might choose you to sit in that seat while he gone, right?”
“Why you say that . . . ?” Marcus asked with major concern. “Spoonie the next in line for that slot.”
“Smitty took a real liken to you befo’ he lef’. He knows Big C and Steve gon’ guide you in the right direction . . . ,” JR continued to explain intensely. “Spoonie don’t have the mind-set to run a nation. Look at him now, out there robbing other vice lord brotha’s that’s outside the neighborhood. Smitty know if he blessed him wit’ chief status, somebody in the nation would whack his ass jus’ to see you or one of the other elites in that seat.”
JR was the only person out of the crew that Marcus could have logical conversations with about nation business. Marcus stood there, giving JR his undivided attention.
“You ready to be labeled chief of this nation?” JR asked with all seriousness.
Looking JR square in the eyes, he replied, “You know I am.” They shook up and then turned their attention back toward the party scene.
Marcus and the others in VIP continued to enjoy themselves. While checking out the crowd, JR spotted Mikey and the others on the dance floor having a good time with some nice-looking females, when he noticed a commotion breaking out between Mikey and an unfamiliar face. Marcus and the other four immediately wrestled their way through the crowded club that consisted of everyone grooving and dancing to the blasting sounds of house music. “It’s time for the percolator, it’s time for the percolator, it’s time for the percolator ” . . .” was all you heard pumping out of the club speakers as most people were performing the dance move that went along with the song.
“How the fuck you gon’ get mad at me ‘cause yo’ bitch chose . . . !” Mikey hollered out argumentatively, inches away from the guy’s face with the rest of the lords standing behind him. “You better charge that shit to the game, nigga!” These were the words Marcus heard as he began to step in between the two.
“What’s goin’ on?” Marcus loudly spoke over the music while putting a hand in front of Mikey as he turned to face the dude.
“This hoe-azz nigga act like he wanna do some’nt!” Mikey yelled while forcefully stepping up to the forefront.
“Homey, I ain’t worried ‘bout you or them niggaz you wit'!” the dude responded, matching Mikey’s aggression, obviously showing signs that he had too many drinks.
“Look, dude, don’t do that to ya’self,” Marcus simply responded, but his expression showed that he meant business. “Now I advise you and ya’ mans ‘n’ nem to go ‘head on ‘bout y’all bin’nis!”
The three guys that stood beside the dude began grabbing hold of their friend after seeing the stone-cold seriousness upon Marcus’s face.
While fiercely pushing against his friends’ attempt to pull him away from the scene, he shouted out, “Keisha, bring yo’ ma’fuckin’ ass here!”
After noticing the sexy young lady not making a move from out of Mikey’s embrace, Marcus responded, “Nah, she wit’ da team for the night. Now, do we have a problem?!” he said while mean mugging, placing his right hand underneath his linen shirt.
“Come-on, man, fuck that bitch!” one of his friends hollered out as they forcefully began pulling him away.
“A’ight, my nigga, you got it, don’t trip!” the dude said while shaking his head in an up-and-down motion before fading away into the crowd.
Most of the attention on that particular side of the club was on the commotion at hand. Mikey noticed all the attention and took advantage of it as he stood up on a nearby stool and shouted the words, “TO ALL THE BEAUTIFUL LADIES IN THE HOUSE. IF Y’ALL WONNA KICK IT WIT’ SOME REAL-AZZ NIGGAZ, FOLLOW US TO THE VIP AND LET’S HAVE US A GOOD TIME . . . !” while holding up a half-emptied bottle of Moet in one hand and a fifth of Remy XO in the other.
After Mikey made that display, all the lords cheered him on and wildly began grooving to the loud sounds of Pac’s hit record, “Gangsta’ Party.” The entire crowd got hype! While everyone had their minds set on partying the night out, Marcus kept his eyes on the guys they just had an altercation with until noticing the security aggressively escorting them out the club.
Once making it back to the VIP section, Marcus and his crew had it packed beyond capacity with nothing but thick ‘n’ sexy females that preferred to party with a bunch of thugged-out-ass niggaz that also knew how to be gentlemen. Of course without any hesitation, Marcus chose two beautiful women to accompany himself with. The remainder of the club night consisted of good smoking and expensive drinking. A great vibe was surrounding the atmosphere. The scene Marcus and his crew had in the VIP really showed the ladies how a real “gangster party” should be conducted.
By the time the DJ announced last call for alcohol, Marcus and his crew had already figured out which females they were going to leave with for an after party, which was usually at someone’s home or at a hotel room. Around a quarter ‘til four, the dance floor and the rest of the club area was fairly empty before Marcus and his entourage began staggering out the VIP section. Everyone had their pair of females with them while exiting the club. Majority of the crowd were stumbling drunkenly as they walked and talked with amusement. Marcus and JR seemed like the only two out the crew that weren’t sloppy drunk. While standing outside the club loudly conversing with each other, the valet was pulling up in their cars one at a time. Marcus noticed a frail guy walking with his head down on the same side of the street as them, wearing all black and a baseball cap that literally covered his eyes. Marcus didn’t bother to inform his team on the unusual person that was in the process of walking past the crowd because he didn’t want to seem paranoid, and he figured by everyone being strapped with pistols that they were all right. Marcus kept his eyes on the suspicious man until he passed by him. Once recognizing that he wasn’t one of the guys that they had a conflict with earlier that night, Marcus went back to conversing with the females that were standing next to him. Moments after turning his attention off the guy, shots rang out! After the first shot was fired, everyone took over panicking, and all the women began screaming hysterically! In the midst of the six shots being fired, Marcus kept a straight head and pulled his pistol while trying to locate where the shooting was coming from. He quickly saw the guy in all black unloading rounds at someone in the crew before rapidly returning shots, causing him to run, scared, off through the dark alleyway that was next to the club. For a split second, everything went silent after the shooting ended, as Marcus was still in his shooting stance while deeply breathing.
“Oh my God!!! Noooooooo!!!” one of the young ladies desperately burst out screaming, breaking the couple seconds of silence.
Everyone ran over to see what horror her eyes had witnessed. And there he was, lying on his back in between two parked cars, choking off his own blood. Right next to him laid a young lady that showed no signs of movement.
“Nawl! Not my ma’fuckin’ nigga!” Lil G exclaimed hysterically as he and the others rushed over to aid Mikey.
“Someone get us some help, pleeease!!! We got two people ova’ here dying!” a young lady cried out loudly to no one in particular.
Everyone was trying their best to help the two, but it was obvious that the young lady was not breathing. Instead of waiting for help, Marcus took matters into his own hands. He and the rest of the crew carefully picked Mikey up and rushed him to the nearest emergency room.