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Club Revolt in midtown Manhattan was a vibrant and fashionable club filled with sexy women, ballers, and shot-callers. The expansive nightclub featured a public party lounge with a large-scale dance floor as well as several intimate suites. It was a sleek place with a full bar and bedecked with 46-inch LCD flat-screens throughout. Club Revolt exemplified elegance through its rich and polished décor.
“Work” by Rihanna and Drake blared throughout the club, and the floor was packed with dancers. VIP was in full swing and occupied completely with the celebrities and ballers popping bottles and even pills, and keeping companionship with the sexily dressed females.
In the mix of the party were Kip and his crew. They stood right by each other at the bar and were watching everything, Kip being the most vigilant.
Security was tight with bouncers everywhere inside the club. Each bouncer was dressed in black with “Club Security” stamped across their shirts, and each one stood over six feet tall. They were looking to prevent trouble inside and outside before it started since Club Revolt had a reputation to uphold. Club Revolt was a place where the celebrities, rappers, and athletes felt safe to show off their wealth. There was bling shining everywhere. Club hostesses with their short black shorts and sexy tops regularly moved through the crowd with expensive bottles of champagne with sparklers to serve the VIP.
Kip found his mark. In fact, he found a few marks inside the club. He steadily watched three ballplayers from a distance. They were living it up in VIP with the sexily dressed ladies and downing champagne like it was water. The two Atlanta Hawks players he watched were wearing six figures on their wrists, hands, and necks, giving “icy” a whole new definition, but they were heavily guarded by security. Though there were some fine black females in Club Revolt, the two players seemed mostly interested in the white girls with their shorts dresses, blonde hair, and petite figures.
The third player Kip watched was Jason Miller from the Nets. He stood solo in the club with no bodyguards and no entourage, a bold move on his part. He thought he was secure with his street credibility and hood upbringing. He was a multi-millionaire with his new NBA contract and endorsement deals, but he also had a reputation for being a thug and a hothead, on and off the basketball court. Jason Miller was a product of Brownsville, Brooklyn and very proud of it. Basketball had taken him out of the ghetto and a life of crime to a life of luxury.
Jason stood in the club ice-grilling anyone that stared at him for too long. Completely standoffish, he was a mean fucker with monstrous height, standing six seven and muscular. He clutched a Moët bottle and drank straight from it like a goon.
Kip looked Jason’s way. He was definitely the prize; his jewelry alone was worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. Kip hated him already.
“Who we on tonight?” Papa John asked.
“Yeah, Jason Miller and them two Hawks players in VIP,” Kip replied in a low voice in Papa’s ear.
Papa John wasn’t expecting to hear three. “What? You want to get all three of them fools?”
Kip nodded.
That wasn’t the plan originally. They were to single out one fool in the club and set him up for a robbery, take everything he had, and leave. But Kip was being greedy. How were they going to rob three NBA players at the same time, especially when the two Hawks players had security?
Devon was with Kip. He felt it could be done. He needed the money too, and the more of it, the merrier.
Kip looked at a skeptical Papa John and said into his ear, “Look, nigga, we need the money, and this is our one moment to get paid from these rich niggas.”
Kip needed the cash for his Nana. Her rent was due, and it was ten thousand dollars a month to keep her comfortable in the opulent retirement home upstate. Plus, he had other expenses to take care of. Tonight, Jason Miller and the two Hawks players were going to get got. Kip was certain of that.
“Look, I’ll be on Jason, and y’all two niggas stay on them fools.” He motioned his head toward the Hawks player. “I’m sure y’all can get them niggas despite security around. We done hit fools like them before.”
They both nodded.
The night was still young, so the party at Club Revolt wasn’t ending anytime soon. For the trio,
it was about blending in and playing things cool until it was time to light the fireworks and get on with the show.
Kip was focused, but his two counterparts decided to order champagne and keep up with the Joneses inside the club. They gazed at the lovely ladies, especially Papa John, who thought he had seen a number of future baby mamas roaming around that he wanted to sex down and make lucky number seven. And Devon threw back drink after drink.
Kip didn’t indulge in drinking. He wanted to stay focused and clearheaded. He said sternly, “Y’all niggas really need to chill wit’ the drinks.”
Papa John said, “Nigga, we just having some fun.”
“We ain’t here to have fun, we here to get paid tonight. Don’t forget that shit! You think we got room to fuck this up?”
Papa John and Devon knew Kip was right. A drunk or tipsy stick-up kid was an arrest or murder waiting to happen, so they cut back on the alcohol.
“Y’all niggas keep an eye on them,” Kip said. “I gotta make a call.”
Devon nodded.
Kip turned around and walked toward the bathrooms. He pulled out his cell phone and looked for her number. He found an empty stall to occupy and called her. Though he had shunned her earlier today, there was no doubt in his mind that she would be there for him. Three rings later, she picked up.
“Now you call me?” she answered. “You got some fuckin’ nerve, Kip.”
“I need you tonight,” he murmured, getting straight to the point.
