Carl Weber's Kingpins Read Free Page A

me,” I said to the concerned woman. “Muthafuckas like that always get what’s coming to them.”
    She nodded. “You got that shit right. God bless you. I hope you find another job.”
    I was sure that somewhere down the road I would. I thanked the woman and parted ways with her as she went to her car and I went to mine. I chilled inside for a while, thinking. Unemployed, again. Dissed, again. Disrespected, no doubt. Two steps up, five back. That’s what my boy Nate always said. I couldn’t resist calling to tell him just how right he was. I knew that he and Theo would laugh and make fun of me for getting fired, and you best believe, when I hit Nate with the breaking news, he cracked up.
    â€œMan, I told you about dealing with those two-bit-ass jobs. You need to come play where the real players play. I don’t know, nor do I understand, what is holding you back.”
    â€œYou already know what’s up. I can’t be taking no risks like y’all do. The last thing my ass want to do is spend my life in jail. I’d rather put up with the bullshit out here, than deal with the bullshit in there.”
    â€œI feel you, bro, but sometimes, taking risks pays off. And the last time I checked, ain’t nothing wrong with doing what you must to stay afloat and keep a li’l change in yo’ pockets.”
    We’d had this debate plenty of times before. I just wasn’t down with selling drugs, robbing folks, gambling, or pimping hoes. Making money by any means necessary wasn’t my motto, but at the rate I had been going with these jobs, I had to rethink some shit.
    â€œWe’ll talk about my situation later. Meanwhile, what did ol’ girl cook today? I know she done hooked you up.”
    â€œNot yet, but a late dinner is being prepared. I got home earlier and there wasn’t nothing on the table. Told that bitch to get off Facebook and make some music with pots and pans. She working on something now. Stop by, if you want to.”
    â€œMost definitely. Give me about an hour and I’ll be there.”
    After I ended my call with Nate, I removed my dress shirt and relaxed the seat back. I still sported my white, V-neck T-shirt that displayed an array of tats on both arms. My entire back was covered with BONES tattooed in script across it. I still wanted more on my chest, but that shit was costly. Money was an issue.
    I removed a joint from my pocket. Started to get high and filled the car with a cloud of smoke as I released some of it into the air. It had gotten dark outside, but I kept watching the exit door. When I spotted my supervisor come outside, I positioned my seat up straight. I massaged my strong hands together while eyeing my target, as well as several cameras that I assumed wouldn’t get a clear picture of me or my license plates, because it was too dark. I was thankful for broken parking lot lights that made it easier for criminals to shake and move. Even easier for me, as I saw my supervisor looking down, searching for his keys. By the time he looked up, he bumped right into my hard chest.
    â€œExcuse me—”
    My dark eyes narrowed. His mouth clamped tight and fear washed over him. That pleased me, more than ever. I reached up and gripped his red neck. Squeezed so tight that he could barely breathe. He scratched at my hands as I shoved him against his car and lifted him from the ground. His feet dangled. Pleading, watery eyes begged for me to let him go.
    â€œD-E-A-D, dead. That’s what you will be, if you keep disrespecting muthafuckas, and if you open yo’ mouth about this problem you now have to anyone, I know where you live, and I know where you work. Consider this payback for all of yo’ bullshit and referring to me as, ‘the stupid nigger over there who don’t do shit.’ FYI, here’s what I can do.”
    Tears seeped from the corners of his eyes, and his whole face turned beet red. He thought he