after he had told them all they wanted to hear. “I need him to believe me when I tell him I didn’t say a word.” Danny was sure they would go easy because he had cooperated.
“No problem, Danny. I think we can do that for you.”
The men laughed. Danny didn’t know he was going to get the whooping of his life, whether or not he asked for it. It was just GP—General Principle. He helped King Kong rob and disrespect Suave, and he had to pay for that. Danny talking saved his life... for now but didn’t prevent the beating.
Danny was gagged and beaten within an inch of his life. His muffled screams went unnoticed. He wiggled, twisted, and turned but couldn’t escape the kicks and blows. Danny could have sworn he saw stars behind the blindfold when the knife cut into his jawbone. His body couldn’t handle the intense pain, and mercifully, he slipped away into a black, pain-free darkness. Danny came around when his body was thrown out of the moving car into the middle of a busy street. The blaring of horns, squealing tires, and curse words brought him to his staggering feet as he tried to peek through the blindfold.
Danny has a vague recollection of being led into a car and taken to King Kong’s headquarters. Everything and everyone was a blur until the next day when he woke up in his bed with his wife’s anxious face hovering above him.
“You weren’t supposed to beat me that bad,” Danny muttered under his breath. “I snitched on my partner, but yet, you disfigured me for life.” He reached up and gently touched the bandage over his injured jaw. “What else did you want?” Tears seeped out of Danny’s eyes and ran down his bruised cheeks. He never saw King Kong tiptoeing away from the doorway, where he stood all this time watching him in silence.
Chapter Eight
“Respect, Boss.”
“Big up, Godfather.”
“What’s good, player?”
“You the man, Suave.”
“Blessed, my Lord. Good to see you in the place.”
Suave pounded fists and exchanged man hugs and high fives as he strutted toward his bar, a front for his headquarters, in Wilton Gardens, better known as Rema.
Rema was a crime-infested, inner-city community in Western Kingston. Often, unstable and dangerous, it was plagued by rival gangs who wreaked havoc on the residents and war against law enforcement. Rema and Jungle were neighboring rival communities. Suave was from Rema, and King Kong was, appropriately, from the Jungle—two fierce rivals.
Suave had just parked his Mercedes-Benz in front of his bar and hopped out to see a bunch of men waiting for him. Most of them were his workers. Others were just waiting for a handout, which Suave would do on a regular basis.
A rich man by illegal means, Suave was considered very generous by some of the residents in the community. He often helped single mothers pay tuition, bought uniforms, books, and school supplies for dozens of children. The elders often received money for food and their medications, while many of the men were added to his payroll in various capacities.
Very few people were concerned about the little boys who dropped out of school to run drugs for Suave. They didn’t see the dope fiends who were strung out on the drugs Suave supplied or the “soldiers” who got killed or locked away like animals in a jail cell for a very long time. It was Suave’s world, and they just existed in it.
“What’s up, hot stuff?” Suave said as he entered the bar, slapping the booty of the voluptuous bar manager who was bent over the counter that she was wiping down.
The woman turned and blushed. “What’s good, daddy?”
Been there and done that. Suave ignored the open invitation. On occasion, he slept with the manager, especially if he had to work late, but for the most part, she was for business purposes only. “Cobra and Daddy Lizard here?”
“They’re upstairs getting payroll ready. You want me to bring up breakfast now?”
It was a two-story building. The bar was on the first floor and the executive offices of Suave’s empire on the second.
“Yeah, do that. And make sure the coffee is—”
“Good morning, Brother Suave,” came a deep, strong voice from behind Suave.
Suave fired off a few curse words before turning around to face the owner of the voice. “Rev, how many times have I told you not to come into my place of business?” Suave took a few steps to bridge the small gap between them until they were standing nose to nose. “Why don’t you leave me alone, man?” Suave’s nostrils opened and closed in anger, his fists balled at his sides.
“I’m not here to cause trouble, Brother Suave.” Reverend Stanford was very calm. “I have a message for you from the Lord.”
The curse words thrown at the reverend had no impact on him. Reverend Stanford wasn’t the least bit fazed by Suave’s disrespect. He had a job to do, and he was going to do it until the breath left his body.
“Take your message and your Lord and get out now!” Suave barked, raining spit all over the reverend’s face. “Go back over to your little church while you can,” he warned, pointing outside.
The Kingdom Church of God was a small, brick building located right across the street from Suave’s headquarters. Except for the headquarters, it was one of the few buildings without graffiti. Headed by the young, handsome Reverend Stanford, the church was determined to convert every sinner in Jamaica, by the blood of Jesus Christ, starting with the residents of Rema. So far, the only blood that seemed to be running was those of murdered citizens on a regular basis. However, Reverend Stanford and his few church members refused to give up the fight.
“Matthew 19:26 says, ‘But Jesus beheld them, said unto them, with men this is impossible; but with God all things are possible.’” Reverend Stanford always reminded his church, “We won’t stop until the residents of Rema turn their lives over to the Lord. Murderers, drug dealers, and gang members must come to God!”
Reverend Stanford returned Suave’s glare with a look of compassion. “You are supposed to be saving lives, not taking them with that poison. God wants to use you for His kingdom, my brother.” He placed a hand on Suave’s shoulder.
In a flash, Suave knocked the offensive hand off, pulled his gun from his waistband, and rested it on the reverend’s temple. “Don’t ever talk to me about your idiot God again, or I swear you are going to get a bullet in your head. I don’t do the God thing. Got it?”
“No, you get this.” Reverend Stanford didn’t even flinch. “God won’t stop until you succumb to Him. This is not what He wants for you, my friend. One day, you will have to stop running.”
Suave cocked the gun. “Get out of here now! I swear I’m—”
“Wow! Hold it, Boss.” Cobra ran up to Suave and held on to the hand with the gun. “Don’t do anything stupid now.” He and Daddy Lizard were upstairs and heard Suave yelling. Sensing trouble, Cobra left the pile of money they were counting and ran down the stairs to find Reverend Stanford visiting again.
Suave shook off Cobra’s hand but lowered the gun to his side. “Get this fool out of here before I kill him.” Suave stepped even closer
