Carl Weber's Kingpins by Smooth Silk Read Free Book Online

janitorial position, I changed my mind. I crumbled the application in my hand and walked out. After hearing how the supervisor spoke to the other workers, and when he told me the job was only paying minimum wage, I knew this wasn’t the place for me. Theo called as I was getting in the car. He immediately heard the frustration in my voice.
    â€œI’m not trying to push you to do the wrong thing, but it ain’t no fun being broke. There are plenty more ways for you to get your hands on money, and just like the rest of us, sometimes, you gotta do what you gotta do, until something else better comes along.”
    â€œSomething else like what?”
    â€œLike go see that nigga Mango. See if he’ll hook you up with something. After you distribute that shit, give him his cut and keep yours. The police don’t be tripping like you think they do. And all you have to do is keep a low profile and create some regular customers. If need be, I can loan you some money to get by. But you gotta start puttin’ that petty shit behind you and be willing to make moves to the next level. Meanwhile, don’t tell Mango I sent you his way, and don’t tell him that you’ve seen me. He be acting funny sometimes, but don’t take it personal.”
    I suspected that Theo and Nate were sick of me borrowing money. And it wasn’t fair to them that they were the ones taking risks, and I wasn’t. I decided to take his advice and go see Mango.
    Within the hour, I sat at a kitchen table with Mango. He was an old cat with a twitching eye, a meaty baldhead, and a potbelly that boiled over his sweats. Nappy beads of hair were on his bare chest, but diamond rings were on every last one of his fingers. Two of his henchmen sat close by on a leather sectional, watching my every move. Several chicks were on the couch too, and one of them winked at me from afar. I paid her no attention, and I listened to Mango speak to me as if I wasn’t shit. He knew that I needed his help, and that caused him to turn up the heat.
    â€œI don’t know what took you so long to come here. You thank you better than me and the other niggas around here? And when did you thank it was okay for you to go work for the white man instead of the black man? I pay a whole lot better than he does, and any muthafucka who don’t realize that is just plain ol’ stupid in my opinion.”
    I wiped my mouth just to silence myself. This nigga had done nothing but insult me, but I remained calm. I guess too calm for him, because he continued to push.
    â€œSo now, you’ve come here to beg me to help you. To be truthful, I don’t trust niggas with yo’ reputation with my goods.”
    With that being said, I stood to go. Coming here was a waste of time. I’d heard enough.
    â€œSit the fuck down,” Mango shouted. “I’m not done talkin’ to you yet, and while I don’t trust you with my goods, I would like to utilize yo’ talents in another way. Do want you to consider doing some other things for me?”
    I reluctantly eased back down in the chair to listen. Mango placed a stack of hundreds on the table, fanning them out in front of me.
    â€œTwo thousand dollars ain’t a bad pay for a day’s work. And from what I’ve heard, a nigga like you can be very beneficial to me. I like how you keep yourself in control, like you are right now. That shit is impressive.”
    He reached behind him, then laid a photo on the table. While sucking his teeth, he eased the photo over to me. “I need to brang that nigga some for-real pain. He’s been tripping with my money, and he needs what I refer to as a wake-up call. Don’t want him dead—too valuable to me. Just want him hurt. My men over there are only killers. They don’t like to scare people, but I hear that you do. Why don’t you take this money, find that nigga for me today, and bring me back something as a souvenir.