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“The Purple Gang?” Carter questioned.
“The Purple Gang,” Jackie said and stood up. “That’s what everybody called her crew.”
“You know, like purple rain,” Geno said, and everybody laughed but Benny.
“Anyway, her and The Purple Gang went to a bar where he hung out and dragged him out of there. They took him to his house, stripped him naked and bent him over the kitchen table and cuffed him to it.”
“That sounds like Rain,” Hassan said.
“So Rain steps up behind him and says, I know your bitch ass is hopin’ that I strap up and fuck that ass, but I got something else in mind.”
“What she do instead?” Carter asked.
Jackie started walking toward Benny. “She kicked him in the dick until he told Rain what she wanted to hear.”
“Damn!” Hassan said and laughed.
Carter laughed and punched Benny in the face. “That shit was funny, why ain’t you laughing?”
“‘Cause the story ain’t over yet, Carter,” Jackie said and pulled up a chair in front of Benny.
“Damn sure ain’t,” Geno said.
“What Rain do?”
“Rain starts telling him some story Nick told her about how in some cultures they cut the hands off of thieves.” Jackie paused. “Thieves, like you, Benny.”
“No, she didn’t,” Hassan said, and Benny’s eyes got big.
“Yeah the fuck she did,” Geno said.
“She had two of her boys cut his hands off with machetes and then Rain shot him in the head for screaming.” Jackie paused and there was silence in the room. “Then they dumped his naked ass, along with his hands, in front of the bar they took him from.”
“Now that’s how you send a message,” Carter said and slammed Benny’s face into the desk one more time.
Jackie leaned forward. “That’s what Rain Robinson does to people that steal her money.” Jackie paused and pointed in his face. “Thieves like you, Benny.” She sat back. “So, you should be thanking Carter for just beatin’ the fuck out your thief-ass and give him his fuckin’ money before Rain comes down here and cuts your fuckin’ hands off.”
Chapter Nineteen
Psych was worried. Since he organized and carried out the drive-by on Marvin, things haven’t gone well. His boys, Odell and Latavius were dead, killed by RJ and Marvin. They had even killed Norreece Jefferson.
If they killed that big crazy mutha fucka, what chance do I have? He asked himself.
He needed protection. The streets weren’t safe for him. He had considered leaving the city, but his money wouldn’t take him much farther than Jersey, maybe Philly if he was lucky. With no real money to speak of, and the streets not being safe to show his face, doing a job to get money was out of the question.
Last thing I need is for them niggas to show up blasting while I’m trying to make something happen, Psych thought. With very few options available to him, Psych went to see Mobley for help. He sat quietly and listened attentively to Psych as he talked about how RJ and Marvin killed Odell, Latavius and Norreece Jefferson and that he feared he was next.
“I’m sure of it,” Psych said.
“I got some shit in the works that will bring them niggas to their knees.” Mobley paused. “But in the meantime, I suggest that you lay low until I get this shit going like it needs to be.” Mobley stood up and Psych took that as his invitation to leave.
“Could you hit me off with a couple of dollars?” Psych asked, and Mobley looked at him with disgust. He had paid Psych well for hitting Marvin. The fact that he needed money to lay low said a lot about him. Mobley looked at Psych, then he opened his desk drawer and took out a stack of bills.
“Five grand do you for a minute?”
“Yeah, shit yeah. Thank you,” Psych said, taking the money and quickly shoving it in his pocket. “You know I’m good for it, right?”
“Right,” Mobley said, knowing that he would never see a nickel of that money again.
