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ChapterFifteen
“You know Mase is going to kill us if he finds out what we’re doing,” Parker said, slipping on a pair of leather gloves.
It was three o’clock in the morning, and again, Laz had left his beautiful wife in bed to chase a lead. They were sitting in Parker’s truck at the end of the block where Benny “Baldy” Madison lived in his grandfather’s walkout basement. Perfect for breaching.
After getting the information from C-Dogg, Ashton was able to get names and addresses for Laz. Of course, the information came with a speech. Though his friend understood why Laz had to go after these guys, he thought it was a bad idea for several reasons—the main one being Laz wasn’t completely healthy and was going into the situation blind.
He couldn’t let that stop him. He needed answers and to send a message to the next person who thought they could come for him without consequences.
“He’s not going to find out,” Laz finally said as he glanced around. Only having one working arm was a bitch, but it wouldn’t stop him from getting a message out. The hard part for him was going to be not killing the bastard who tried to take him out. He had learned that David “Shaggy” Smith had a warrant out for his arrest, but there was nothing on Benny. Before deciding whether to turn Shaggy in, Laz wanted to see if he could get any information from one of the guys. He was starting with Benny since he was the youngest, had no warrants and was new to the 2-7 gang. He’d be easier to break.
“I usually try and stay on the right side of the law, but I have to admit, I’m looking forward to using this thing.” Parker turned on the alarm jammer, a device that Laz had picked up from a hacker that he’d busted on more than one occasion. After Laz left the force, he’d kept in contact with The Hackman. He could’ve asked for Wiz’s help, but in situations like this, he tried not to involve Supreme’s people in shady shit.
“Ready?” he asked Parker.
Parker had been with Supreme for almost four years and was always up for an adventure. The former Chicago SWAT member had moved to Atlanta with a weapons specialist background. He was one of the most fearless men Laz had ever met. They’d hit it off immediately and worked on numerous assignments together.
“I am if you promise you’re not going to kill the guy,” Parker said with a laugh, but Laz heard the concern in his friend’s voice.
Everyone who knew him well knew that anything was possible. Deep down, Laz wanted to put a bullet between the man’s eyes. But Journey’s beautiful face came to mind. He never wanted to do anything to disappoint her, and for the most part, he hadn’t. This situation was different, though.
“I can’t make any promises,” Laz finally said and climbed out of the car.
They jogged down the quiet sidewalk, passed a few driveways, and were careful to stay in the shadows. Right away, Laz wanted to yank the sling from around his neck. All it did was piss him off even more that he was hampered by it in the first place.
He definitely planned to take his frustrations out on those responsible. He really needed to be at his best, but because of his injury, he could only do so much. That bugged the hell out of him since he wasn’t sure of the skill level of the men they would be dealing with. Maybe he should’ve got one more person in on this little excursion, but most of his closest friends were married. They all had too much to lose, not that Parker didn’t. But out of those Laz trusted explicitly, Parker was the only single one.
They ran up the driveway and around to the back of the house, and Laz cursed under his breath when they saw the fence. Any other time, he would’ve hopped over it without much thought, but not tonight. Not with only one good arm.
“Hold up,” Parker said. With a hand on the wooden fence, he hopped over.
It was three o’clock in the morning, and besides a barking dog in the distance, all was quiet on the block. Laz was counting on the element of surprise to catch Baldy off guard. The last thing they needed was a squeaky gate, especially since, in that neighborhood, it wouldn’t be unusual for someone to come out of the bushes with a gun.
Laz moved closer when the gate was unlatched and slowly pushed it open but stopped suddenly when the scraping of metal against metal screeched into the night. When they were sure the noise hadn’t alerted anyone, he slipped into the large backyard. For the most part, it was a nice-looking piece of property, except for the second-story deck they were now standing beneath. That deck looked as if a good wind would knock it over.
This is almost too easy, Laz thought when they were at the sliding patio door that had a screen in front of it. To his surprise, the door was partially open, probably for air circulation.
Before going inside, Laz grabbed his cell phone from his jacket pocket and pulled up an app that could record conversations. He had downloaded it weeks ago after hearing some of the guys at work discussing its capabilities. Little had he known that it would come in handy. He wasn’t sure what they would learn tonight. But if he could coax a confession out of one of the guys before beating his ass, he’d hand it over to Ted. The thugs would go down for murder and attempted murder.
After starting the recorder, Laz put the phone away and pulled his gun from his back waistband. With the use of Parker’s penlight, they eased into the house. As they moved with stealth-like precision, they took in their surroundings. The only illumination in the dimly lit room came from the sixty-five-inch television mounted above the fireplace in a sitting area.
They moved in that direction, their boots silent as they stepped over shoes, clothes, and discarded beer cans while maneuvering through the open space. As they got closer to the TV area, a sofa, love seat, and two recliners sat in front of the fireplace. One of the recliners was occupied by a man in his mid-to early twenties. It was too dark to determine for sure, but Laz assumed it was Benny.
The man didn’t move, and they could hear him snoring as they edged closer.
Parker shut off the flashlight, basking the room into darkness except for the light from the television that was muted. They flanked the guy, each standing on either side of the recliner. Baldy held the television remote in one hand, but Laz couldn’t see his other hand tucked between his left thigh and the inside of the chair.
He did spot a gun on the table next to the chair and shoved it into his pocket. When he turned over the recording to Ted, he’d also include the gun.
As he stared down at the man who had dared to come after him, anger swirled inside him. The motherfucker could have killed him and Arielle, just like Nazir.
Laz wanted more than anything to wrap his hands around the man’s scrawny neck and squeeze the life out of him. First, though, he needed answers.
His gaze traveled the length of Benny “Baldy” Madison, dressed in an Atlanta Braves jersey and jeans. White gym socks covered his feet.
Baldy. What a stupid nickname, considering the guy wore his hair in tiny braids down the back of his head. His fair complexion showed an acne problem, but based on how well-groomed his mustache and short beard were, he took pride in his appearance.
The longer Laz looked at the young punk, the more familiar he seemed, but he didn’t know the guy. So why did it feel like he….
