Thanks for all the reviews and liking the story idea :) I really appreciate yall. Here's the next chapter. Just a warning! It will get pretty graphic in here. I promise yall I'm not crazy, I'm really getting into the gory writing in this chapter.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Boondocks or anything related to it...Unfortunately :( Or IHOP :(
Chapter 2: The Reason
"Mafia is a process, not a thing. Mafia is a form of clan-cooperation to witch it's individual members pledge lifelong loyalty. Friendship, connections, family ties, trust, loyalty, obedience – this was the glue that held us together."- Joseph Bonanno
Cairo
Blinding bright light from the sun shone through the maroon-colored curtains and it woke me up. I felt someone's head laying on me. Some white bitch with blonde hair. Who the fuck. I thought in confusion as to whom the hell it was, touching my head and soaking in the side effects to the start of a really atrocious hangover. Then I remembered about last night and a cheeky smirk slowly crept across my face. Oh, yea.
My upper body rose from the bed, leaving the blonde bitch to roll off of me and harshly fall on the other side of the bed. She didn't wake up, only shifted over on her side to get more comfortable. I sucked my teeth in annoyance and roughly shook her shoulder. "Wake up," I demanded in a cold tone. Still nothing. "I said wake up, bitch." This time forcefully and successfully knocking her off the bed to be comforted by tile flooring.
The woman shot up, obviously surprised by her rude awakening. "What?!...It's too early for this," she exclaimed as she let out a yawn and stretched her toned arms above her shoulders.
"Get out," I said in an uninterested tone.
A pout formed on her lips and eyes were in resemblance of a kicked puppy as she got back in the bed and scooted close to me. "What are you talking about? You said we'd spend more time together today and-"
"And I lied." I pointed to the door and continued, "So get out."
"Don't be so mean baby," She leaned in closer as a lone hand started to go down from my chest to my lower region. "How about another round?" Her sleepy tone becoming more sensual with each word.
My nose twitched in disgust as I smelt her morning breath. I removed her hand from underneath the covers and pushed her away so I wouldn't smell her stench anymore. "Look here woman, get out. You were cute for a couple of days but now you bore me."
Tears started to creep in her eyes and I rolled my eyes. "Don't start with that crying shit. Let's not put on such an emotional scene... Now you knew what you were getting yourself into. Make it easier for the both of us and just leave."
She wiped her eyes then got out of the bed to put on her clothes and make her exit. But not before she turned around screamed with a very unpleasant tone and uncalled for finger, "Fuck you, Cairo!"
I chuckled and in matter of a fact nature replied, "Already did that."
With that, she huffed and slammed the door. Finally that bitch is gone. I shook my head, chuckling as I replayed the scene in my head. A man has to fulfill his needs somehow. My dear pure Jazmine wasn't going to do anything until after we're married, so I have to get it in every now and then in order to calm what minuscule amounts of saneness I have left. But, damn. When did these side bitches become so clingy and problematic? The phone started ringing interrupting me from my thoughts. I looked to see who was calling. Dewey.
Dewey is my right hand man in this filthy and unforgiving business. I guess you could say he was the like Vice President of my empire. Second in charge to handle other pressing matters when I'm unable to do so for whatever various reasons. That loyal man has always been there for me ever since we lived in Chicago barely making it - before fate decided it had superior plans for myself. He's the one who helped build up my territory and get me out of trouble with his clever chatter and networks and shit. Without him, I don't know where the hell I'd be. Probably in the Illinois state penitentiary. Or dead.
I picked up. "What's up?"
"What you say about partying again, tonight?"
A sly smirk slowly crept across my face at the reason for the celebration. "Hell yea. I mean today's the funeral and all, right? If we should celebrate it should be today!"
"Ay, Cairo. Remember when that nigga was crawling for help? That shit was priceless." His heavy voice boomed.
Of course I do. How can I forget something as…conquering…as that moment? I smiled deviously and my eyes glazed over with pride as I remembered that victorious night a week ago.
One Week Ago
Tonight was going to be a very special night for me. Another battle won in this bloody feud. An all-black tinted Dodge charger pulled in front of my house and I climbed into the backseat signaling the driver to go.
Next to me was Dewey with an anxious expression on his face. "We really about to do this?"
"Why of course. Huey should know not to mess with me. We're simply leaving him a little ...message."
A sinister glint flashed through his eyes, oozing with anticipation. "How will we go about this? What items are you thinking of using this time? Did you make sure to use all proper precautions since we will be directly involved? When-"
My hand shot up firmly to silence him and he obeyed. "Don't talk about it. It'll ruin the surprise." I smirked, "Just know that I have it all figured out and nothing is going to ruin this night. Have some faith in me Dewey, you treat me as an incompetent child sometimes."
He nodded his head as a reply and sheepishly shrugged. "It's why you entrust me with so many things. It's primarily part of my job description…"
I agreed hastily, "Yea, yea. Now It's my turn to interrogate you with the one task I assigned you. Did you give the guys the address?"
"Yes, Cairo. They should be there right after us."
"Good. How many?"
"Four, just like you said."
I grinned brimming with excitement. "Excellent. You never fail me, Dewey."
My mastermind plan was all coming together and setting in motion. Everything was ready. All we had to do now was carry out with the deed.
We arrived to the household of the eldest Freeman. After scrutinizing the surveillance over the past few weeks there was only one person that lived in the massive residence. The person I wanted. Dewey and I walked up to the Ivory door and rang the doorbell. The wait was making me restless yet determined for what would take place in the near future. I loved the feeling. Something I haven't felt in a while over the last few years since it was usually my lower-level workers that would carry out such events. But this, this right here was a special case and I would be damned if I missed the chance to be an active participant.
An elderly man with a navy blue sleeping robe on opened the door.
I smiled darkly.
"What do you two niggas want at this time of night?! Can't you see I'm trying to get some-" He paused as Dewey took out a gun and pointed it towards him. Slowly, the old man started to back up and put his hands up in defense. "Look here, I'm not looking for trouble. T-Take whatever you want, just leave me be!" He pleaded with us vulnerably.
Dewey and I looked at each other for a moment, and then laughed at the spectacle. Dewey smacked the gun across his face and blood started to trickle from his mouth. He stumbled back, touched his face, and groaned in pain.
"Mr. Freeman," I started off politely but quickly my demeanor changed to a more menacing one, "I don't want anything in your house. Oh, no. Do we look like some kind of lowly thieves to you?... Although what I do want is you spread all over your walls."
Dewey and I walked into the house, Dewey still pointing the gun towards him. We stopped him until we came into the living room. The four guys I requested followed after us. One with a chair, another with rope, and the last two each holding a bag filled with weapons of my choice. A sense of nostalgia rushed over me as I remembered my younger days where I would regularly partake in thins such as this.
The guy with the rope went around the house double-checking no one was here and closed the blinds in the living room, pressing his fingers to his ear listening to some Intel he was receiving. He came back with a monotone "All clear. The security cameras on the houses of the block were disabled an hour ago. No calls reported".
Remarkable. Everything was going as planned. "Tie him up," I demanded strictly. They did as they were told and the old man started shaking with fear.
"Why are you doing this to me? I don't know who you are!" He struggled and fidgeted as he tried to get his hands out of the adeptly tied rope. Silly old man. It was pathetic really, but oh so amusing to watch.
The chair was facing a beige leather couch, so I sat down on the couch in order to look him in the eyes. Have a little heart to heart with him, you know. "I know you don't know me. It's a shame that it has to come to this, really." My facial features expressed a false sense of empathy as I put a finger to my eye and brought it down trying to emulate tears. Deciding that was enough taunting, I dropped the facade and laughed as the other guys joined me.
"Seriously, though Mr. Freeman. I don't give a shit about if you know me. You're going to die soon anyways. But this is what it comes to in this type of lifestyle I've immersed myself in and unfortunately you are simply collateral damage." I shrugged to emphasize the irrelevance of his life. I tweaked my approach and held my hands together as if to apologize. "Excuse me, Mr. Freeman. Where are my manners? You should know why you're about to die." I cleared my throat and continued. "Are you aware of your grandson's illegal actions?"
He nodded hesitantly. "That boy is always doing some domestic terrorist shit-"
"No, no no. Not that. Your grandson is my rival in a very ruthless business and he did something I'm not too fond about. So it's my duty to leave a memo."
I turned to the guys, "Am I right?" I received a handful of "Yes, boss" from around the room. I chuckled out of satisfaction and turned back around to face Mr. Freeman sensing the terror in his eyes further strengthening my love for what I can do to people. And get away with so easily. "You see, Mr. Freeman. I have to carry this out...It's the only right thing to do."
"Unfortunately, you are only a pawn in this game." I abruptly snapped my fingers together and the two guys with the bags brought them over to me. They brought me gloves to put on to hide my finger prints. I put them on and opened up the first bag. "Oh, what do we have here?" I took out a specialized burgundy and black dagger that glistened in the light. It was my favorite. "You know, Mr. Freeman. I've had a lot of memories with this here dagger. I love daggers. They have a classic feeling to them, eh? And when you cut into someone, you're so close that you can feel the warm blood just oozing out." I smiled admiring it as I held it up into the light. Then I turned to face him. "How does it feel to know to know you'll be a part of its legacy Mr. Freeman?"
He spit in my face.
I wiped it off disgusted and lost all traces of the entertainment I was having. "I was being nice to you, old man! Was just going to kill you with one fatal blow all by myself. But now, you're going to die slowly and painfully! Each one of you get a knife...NOW!"
They quickly scurried to get their knives and waited for my command. "Good...Let's play a game. Let's see how many times we can cut Mr. Freeman until we rip a vain. The first one who wins will get a raise. But, one at a time and I don't want this rushed. Besides what's the fun in that? I go first."
I rose from the couch and circled around Mr. Freeman. "Hmm, so many places to choose. Where should I start?" I stopped near his left arm and touched it with the sharp dagger. I let it slide down until it went to the palm of his hand. No, too easy. I lifted his chin and placed the blade above his Adam's apple. Ahh, yes. Then, I started to tear through the wrinkled flesh. Carefully and painfully slow but not deep enough to tear his throat or cause any lethal damage.
"Ahh!," he cried out in pain as blood started to trickle down his neck. The room filled with laughter. It was a festival. "Let the games begin!" I said cheerfully.
The guy who brought in the rope won. I congratulated him with applause while the other men gave him death glares. Robert Freeman only had a few more minutes to live and I wanted him to go out with a bang.
"Cut the rope! Now," my voice boomed. One of the men did and Mr. Freeman fell out of the chair and onto the ground. He started crawling, blood pouring out of him everywhere. What a magnificent sight to behold. If I were to describe it, it would be somewhere along the lines of…Picture a slug and the slime it leaves behind, replace it with blood and you have Mr. Freeman. It was hilarious! I smirked coolly.
"Give me the gun Dewey." Dewey gave me the pistol and I aimed it at the crawling elderly man. "Bang!" I said as I shot him in his right leg. He shook at the impact but still tried to crawl away. "Mr. Freeman, I have got to say you're quite the fighter. Admirable. Bang!" I said again as I shot him in his left leg. This time he didn't crawl, could not muster the will to crawl. The only thing he managed to do was lie there in silent defeat and sputter uneven rasp breathes.
I walked up to him and kneeled next to his head. "Man, Phew" I wiped off the imaginary sweat from my forehead. "You sure know how to entertain your company, Mr. Freeman! It's sad that this will be our one and only gathering with you. Thanks for your hospitality." And with that, I stood up and shot him in the head. He was gone. I turned around towards the guys and they cheered.
"Thank you, thank you." I said, bowing playfully.
"Who's up for some well-deserved drinks?!" Dewey suggested animatedly.
"I was just thinking the same thing. But before we go, I'm kind of hungry. All that work gave me an appetite!" I cracked neck from side to side and jolted as a course of adrenaline rushed through my being. "Whoo!" '
The guys waited for me to finish. "Let's go to IHOP." I said as we all walked out of the house and got into the cars in route to our celebration destinations. Thoughts of mouthwatering pancakes, alcoholic beverages, and a pretty woman to warm my bed flitted through my mind.
"How could I forget that? Let's go out with a BANG tonight!"
We both laughed and planned for another commemorative night outing.
Jazmine
"What we goin' to do with her?" A female voice asked.
"I don't know. Huey just told me to get the girl. He didn't tell me anything else." A male voice replied. The same smooth, deadly one I heard before I blacked out. My body trembled.
"Shh, shh! I think she's waking." The female voice announced cautiously.
My eyes fluttered open hesitantly, not wanting to adjust to the overly bright light. When it finally opened, my eyes took in the room. I was in a bedroom that definitely wasn't mine. The walls were painted an off-white color and there was barely any furniture. A desk , a chair, and the bed I was laying on. No, the bed I was tied up to. I looked up at the headboard of the bed to see my arms bound to it. I tried moving, but with every move I made the tighter the grip around my wrists increased. I grimaced in pain and looked at the two people who were conversing earlier. One was a Caucasian girl with long blonde hair in a braid to the side. Her eyes were deep blue but far from inviting. Next to her was an Asian guy with black eyes and hair a little grown out but it was still at a relative short length. Both were dressed in dark attire and both glared at me.
"Where am I?" My frail voice asked dreadfully.
"Don't worry about that, bitch." The woman snapped at me ferociously.
"What do you want? How much do you want? My dad can pay for it, I promise! Please just let me go!" I said desperately. I'd do anything to get out of this situation.
They looked at each other with a raised eye brow before they smirked as if amused in some joke known only to them and looked back at me. "We don't want your money, Jazmine DuBois." The creepy guy said.
I gasped. "H-How do you know my name?!"
"Who doesn't know your name? Everyone knows who your dad is. Although, you are not publicized as much as him and not easily spotted to the layperson. You're going to be known no matter what. No matter how hard he tries to keep you from the media there are plenty ways to obtain information on people" The blonde woman stated.
I looked away from them and stared at the wall in deep thought. My dad wasn't the best guy...Well, actually he's far from anything virtuous. He's known as "Don DuBois" throughout the nation. He's notorious; always doing something he shouldn't be doing but always got out of it with his former profession as a lawyer and unethically illegal connections. It seems like his goal to become a lawyer to for himself instead of other people. That's my dad and although he can be viewed as cruel and cutthroat I still love him. But I'm ashamed of his actions and what he has turned into. What this family has turned him into.
No, my father didn't just happen to stumble into the business one day. It was handed down to him through generations and generations of corrupt Dubois's. He was groomed for this sort of position to exploit and participate in whatever illegal activities to strengthen the wealthy empire built upon the misery and destroyed lives of others. He lived for it and it was the only thing he knew but that in no way made it right. And that is the part of him that makes me sick to the pit of my stomach.
I'm always being compared to him and my predecessors when we're complete opposites. Everyone expects me to be some type of hoodlum chick, like the one in front of me. But, I'm not and never will be. One day I will change our tainted legacy. I've always just wanted to be normal, but that's not possible when you're Don Dubois's daughter. And now I'm in this chaos because of my abnormal father.
"Are you going to kill me?" I said to them still staring at the wall gulping in distress. One of them was about to answer but another person answered for them.
"Maybe."
