CHAPTER FIFTEEN
2000 – Play Time’s Over, Kids
The next day I stopped over Eula’s place to make another pick-up. There were only five guns left in the Timberland boxes. I figured I’d leave them there for the time being and try to flip them in the next few days. That would get me zeroed out with the last of the Brownsville inventory and I could wait for Bolo and Hopeton to set up the revamped PanStar-based operation. The one for which I was to be the face man. Fuck me.
Eula stopped me as I walked past her on my way out.
We stood at her breakfast bar.
“Biz keeps bringing all these people around. They’re, like, corner dealers who collect EBT cards and food stamps from their customers,” she complained. “I keep telling Biz to make those deals over at HQ and he just keeps ‘yessing’ me to death. It's annoying!”
I nodded, told her I’d talk to Biz later on and added that to my mental list of shit that needed handling.
Right before I closed the front door I turned around and said, “We found another place to keep our inventory. You’ll have your place back to yourself soon. And then maybe we can be friends again.”
As soon as I got back to my Mercedes, I sat in the driver’s seat and took a deep breath. I needed a break from the madness. Tomorrow was Independence Day and I was gonna take time for myself. This guns stuff, managing Mundo’s legacy pussy problems, dealing with Biz’s sloppy ass- I didn’t sign up for any of this.
Next day at around 1 in the afternoon, my BlackBerry started pinging off the hook. I grabbed it and saw it was Biz.
Biz never hit me via BBM.
I read his message.
Eula’s crib was raided.
