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“I hope I’m on time,” Prosper says as they stroll to the last vacant chair at the table, and he sits.
I reply, “Not at all. You’re just in time for the game to start, but first, care to introduce your friends?”
He smirks, glancing up at them, then back to me. “Oh, these are my cousins who are in town with me this weekend to take care of some business. I assumed it wouldn’t be a problem with them accompanying me. Was I wrong?”
“Not at all,” I say. “Can I get the waiter to bring you gentlemen something to drink?”
Prosper slightly smiled, replying, “Yes, I’ll have a Scotch on the rocks. Cousins?” They remain silent, moving their heads from side to side.
Turning to get the waiter’s attention, I eye Batista and Booker, alerting them to be on guard.
As I gave the waiter Prosper’s drink order, I noticed the men stood behind him, surveying the room as the waiter went to get his drink. I wasn’t stupid, I knew who they were. My daddy always taught me to be observant of everyone around me, and by the look of their dirty fingernails, these men were not Prosper’s cousins.
“Let the game begin,” I announce, clapping my hands together. The dealer begins to shuffle the cards.
Resting my hand on the palm of Sydney’s back, I escort her to the bar. Leaning down, I whisper in her ear, “I think that’s Smitty’s people. How they got with Prosper, I don’t know.”
Placing her hand against my cheek, Sydney responds, “Oh, baby I already peeped that out as soon as they walked through the door. And as for Benny, I remember hearing my daddy say that name when I was younger, but I’m not sure if it’s the same person because I never saw the man.”
What the hell is going on? We clearly have two individuals here who want to kill us, but now to hear Benny has had dealings with Mr. Morgan in the past makes shit even more complicated.
“Cher, what do you remember your father saying about him?” I question.
“Nothing bad, just that Benny was all about his money and if anyone tried to double-cross him, they were never seen again, but baby that was almost fifteen years ago. I haven’t heard anything else about the man, so it might not even be him.”
Staring back at the table where they’ve started discarding cards, I declare, “Whether it’s him or not, shit is about to get nasty, so I hope he’s on our side or he’ll die with the others.”
“Whatever you do, the rest of us will follow. If Benny isn’t who I think he is, then we’ll deal with him accordingly too,” Sydney says, looking me in the eyes.
“Thank you, love,” I said before kissing her cheek. “Batista, Booker, I want the two of you to stay close to Sydney.”
They nod.
When the waiter places Prosper’s drink on his tray, I take the tray from him. He looks confused but I tell him and the bartender, “You might want to go into the kitchen.”
The serious expression on my face has them scrambling out of the room. With the tray with Prosper’s drink, I take it to him with Batista and Booker strategically following behind me. They move to opposite ends of the table as I approach Prosper.
“Here’s your Scotch on the rocks, “I say, lifting the glass, then sitting it in front of him.
Prosper lifts the glass, then takes a sip. “Mmm, I’m convinced, other than my butler, your bartender is the only other person who can make my drink the way I like it.”
“I’m glad you like it,” I say before elbowing the guy on the right in the jaw, thrusting him back, then hitting the other in the face with the tray. The one on the right must have a steel jaw because he presses a button on his watch, then scrambles towards Prosper, then places a large blade underneath his throat.
“Come any closer, and I will kill him,” he threatens with a deep Cajun accent. “My men are already on their way here.”
“Wait, what about our deal?” Prosper pleads as best as he could without the blade cutting into his skin. “You said if I helped you get in here, you would spare me. I did my part.”
“Looks like you made a deal with the devil, Prosper,” I said while glaring at the man. “And who the fuck are you?”
He laughs, replying, “Let’s not play stupid Mr. DeLuca. You know I’m John Paul Maldau and you killed my brother and his son. Prosper told me everything that happened that night, so I’m here to honor their names for the senseless deaths you brought upon them. Where’s my son Gregor?” The other guy with him stands, pulling out a gun from the back of his pants.
“Senseless? Smitty disrespected my woman, calling her everything but a child of God,” I roar, pointing to Sydney. “Your son was also disrespectful. From Smitty’s words and your son’s, I can tell how you all were raised. Hell, in this day and age, one would think people would become more educated about other races.”
“And why would I do that?” John Paul snarls. “You’re what’s wrong with this country. You would rather share your bed with the house wench, other than using your seed to repopulate our world with a full-blooded breed of our own race. Bring me my son!”
I have to control myself because I want to jump across the table to get to John Paul for his racist words. Looking around the table to Simon, Pierre, and Benny they have remained calmed through everything. I would have expected them to be scurrying for the door.
Holding my hands up, I said, “I’ll do that, but first, tell me how you ended up here tonight with Prosper.”
