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But I knew the night wasn’t gonna stay that way.

  A BLADE IN THE BACK

  Within ten minutes I was in a cab, coaching Sonny over my cell phone. “You got nothing to worry about, Sonny. The stuff wasn’t from us. We been set up.”

  “Set up? But we the ones supplying K-Ron!”

  “Chill, a’ight? Have a beer. I’ll be there in ten.”

  I wanted to smash my fist into the seat. Smash it like I was hitting K-Ron’s and Darkman’s faces. But Ty Johnson didn’t lose control.

  Taking a deep breath, I leaned back into the seat.

  A few minutes later I gave the driver a twenty and walked into Sonny’s building, real calm in case somebody was watching. Sonny buzzed me up. As soon as I was in the hallway in front of his apartment, he swung the door open and I went inside.

  I saw that Sonny had an overstuffed gym bag at the door.

  “You said the coke ain’t from us, right?” Sonny was mad panicked.

  “Right. We gotta unpack that bag right away. The cops could come anytime to search your place. If they see you running, it looks like you done something wrong. Come on.” I grabbed the bag, and we went into the bedroom. “Where’s Desarae?”

  “At her mom’s in Queens.”

  “Good.”

  We started unpacking.

  I said, “When I heard K-Ron was back in town last week, I gave him a call. It was weird. Usually K-Ron calls me the same night he gets in town. He didn’t this time. I only heard he was in town because my”—damn, I almost said girlfriend—“because my homey read it in the Post. When I called, he said he didn’t need anything this time. Said his manager was gonna put him in rehab again if he didn’t slow down. K-Ron got another supplier. It’s gotta be Darkman.”

  Sonny looked up from his gym bag. “You think Darkman set K-Ron up as a way to bring us down?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe K-Ron got caught, and Darkman saw a chance to bring us down by telling K-Ron to sell us out.”

  “Why would K-Ron do that? I thought you two was tight.”

  “I bet Darkman got plenty of ways to be convincing.”

  “Do you think the cops are gonna come after us?”

  “ ’Course they will, but they won’t be able to prove shit.” I looked him dead in the eye. “Now promise me you ain’t got an ounce of nothing in here.”

  “I don’t keep nothing big here, you know that. I ain’t suicidal. But I got a tiny bit of weed and a pipe.”

  “A milligram is too much if they come sniffing. Let’s get rid of it.”

  He went to the nightstand, took out a small bag of weed and a bong from the drawer. In the bathroom, Sonny poured the weed into the toilet and cut the bag into pieces, then flushed. I smashed the glass bong against the counter, then crushed the pieces under my feet, scooped it up with my bare hands, and flushed it a few pieces at a time.

  “Anything else in here, Sonny? Think.”

  “Nothing.” He was breathing hard. “They don’t have anything on us, do they, Ty? They can’t touch us.”

  “Right. Remember that when they questioning you. We friends. You don’t know K-Ron from any other nigga. They can place me with him, not you. You got nothing to worry about.”

  “So what you gonna say?”

  I came up with the story in the cab. “Me and K-Ron used to be friends, but we ain’t anymore because he accused me of being jealous and talking trash about him. He hates me now, and that’s why he fingered me as his dealer.”

  “I got you.”

  “When the cops follow up a lead on us and it turns up cold, it’ll be done. Sure, they’ll know we ain’t choir boys—they already know that—but it won’t be enough.”

  Sonny nodded, taking it all in. Sweat dripped off his face. “I trust you, Ty. You won’t sell me out.”

  “Selling you out would be selling myself out.”

  “I know. It’s just, this Darkman’s making me crazy.”

  “That’s what he wants. He’s hoping the po-po will find something on us or our names will get leaked to the papers. His plan won’t work. We unshakable. Did I ever let you down, Sonny?”

  He shook his head. “No, nigga.”

  “Then why would I do it now? In this business, we brothas. Remember that.”

  Suddenly the front door burst open and shouting filled the apartment.

  I felt a body slam into me, shoving me to the ground. Someone pulled my hands behind my back and smashed my face into the carpet.

  Cuffs snapped around my wrists. Cops started searching the place, looking for drugs or cash. They wouldn’t find either.

  “I hope you got a warrant!” Sonny shouted.

  “Wouldn’t leave home without it, Mr. Blake,” said one of the pigs. “Come on, we’re taking you in.”

  They yanked us to our feet and took us down in the elevator, then hustled us into different cars. “Easy, I ain’t struggling,” I said.

  On the way to the station, one of the cops said over his shoulder, “So, I hear you and K-Ron are buddies.”

  “Not anymore,” I said.

  “I guess he ruined the friendship when he ratted you out, huh?” He laughed. “K-Ron used to take you to some wild parties, I bet.”

  “I never been much of a partyer.”

  “You mean to tell me you don’t like to party?”

  I didn’t say nothing.

  “What’s the matter, kid? You deaf or something?”

  “I wish.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Nothing.”

  I didn’t have to deal with his stupid questions for long because the precinct was nearby. As we pulled into the lot, I got ready for what was coming.

  I knew a little something about interrogations. My dad went through enough of them. If they bring ya in, don’t sweat it. Stay cool and stick to yo’ story.

  The cops took me inside the precinct. Nobody gave me a second look. A young black man coming in was nothing new to them.

  This whole thing was messed up. The one time I didn’t do the deal, they brought me in.

  An officer led me into a gray room with paint peeling off the walls, and left me alone.

  This was when I was supposed to sweat.

  An hour later, I still wasn’t sweating.

  After the second hour, I still wasn’t sweating, but I was damn bored, and pissed that they were wasting my time.

  I closed my eyes and relived my night with Alyse.

  When the door opened, the detective found me as calm as if I’d been lying on a beach in the Caribbean.

  He was big and dark-skinned. If I was a skinny white guy, I might’ve been scared. Still, his black eyes grabbed my attention. “I’m Detective Akindele.”

  I cleared my throat. “Hey.”

  “Do you know why you’re here?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Do you know K-Ron Maxwell?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Have you heard what happened to him?”

  “He got arrested.”

  “Now do you know why you’re here?”

  As a character witness? I wanted to say. “Maybe you could tell me, Detective Akindele.”

  “Probable cause, Johnson. Do you know what that is?”

  “It’s when the police got reason to pick somebody up, question them, maybe search their place, but not charge them.”

  He seemed impressed. “Not bad at all. Did you study law in school?”

  “Yes, sir.” But law class wasn’t where I learned about probable cause. Most hustlers knew the words that told them if they were busted. It went something like this:

  Probable cause: They ain’t got shit on you.

  Charged: We got evidence on your ass.

  Probation: You one small step away from going up north, homeboy.

  Community service: Here’s another way to find new customers.

  Akindele cut into my thoughts. “K-Ron had a few things to say about you. Can you guess what?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Tell m
e, what was it your father did for a living?”

  “He was a full-time hustler.”

  Akindele smiled. “That’s one way of putting it. And why did he go to jail?”

  “He was convicted of drug dealing. What does this have to do with K-Ron, Detective?”

  “I was just trying to establish your understanding of the charges that could be filed against you.”

  This Akindele thought he was the shit.

  It was gonna be a long night.

  * * *

  I didn’t get home until eight o’clock the next morning. All I could think of was falling into bed and passing out.

  I opened the door, blinked. “Fuck is this?” Cupboards emptied, drawers opened, sofa cushions on the floor, papers everywhere.

  Mom burst into the front hall, dressed in her pink bathrobe and slippers. “Look, look at this place! Look what they did to it! Like it was no better than a crackhouse! What are the neighbors thinking with the cops searching my home?”

  “Mom, I’m sorry. I’ll clean this up. They tried to pin something on me, but I didn’t do it. They won’t be pressing charges.”

  She squeezed my arm, hard. “They told me you was running with Sonny, that no-good nigga.”

  “Mom—”

  “What, you gonna deny it? Go ahead, then. Deny it.”

  “Sonny and me—”

  “Go ahead. I’m waiting.”

  I hung my head.

  “I wouldn’t have been stupid enough to believe you, anyway.” She wrenched her hand away. “You your daddy’s child, ain’t you?”

  “Shut up.”

  “Don’t you talk to me like that!”

  I stalked past her, going to my room.

  She followed me, standing in the doorway with her arms crossed. “You had it too good, you always did. I’m working my ass off to pay the bills while you be running the streets with Sonny! Well, no more, baby boy.”

  I lost it. “What—you kicking me out? Well, I’ll make it easy for you.” I grabbed a duffel bag and started shoving clothes in.

  “You wanna leave, huh? See what it’s like when you ain’t got mama taking care of you all the time? Go ahead!”

  “I’m gone.” Grabbing the bag, I pushed past her and walked out. She slammed the door behind me.

  * * *

  The red numbers on the alarm clock said: 5:34. In the morning? At night? I rolled, feeling fat pillows around me. Where the hell was I?

  My foggy mind figured it out. After the fight with Mom, I called a cab and went to a hotel. I’d rented rooms here before, sometimes with girls, but mostly to make deals. It was clean, comfortable, and the staff didn’t ask questions.

  I listened to my messages.

  Sonny: 2:50 a.m. “They grilled me, but they didn’t get nothing. Damn pigs gave me forty-five minutes of their time, no more. Call me when you get out.”

  Sonny: 3:32 a.m. “They still got you there, Ty? What’s going on? Call me ASAP. I’m gonna crash, but I got my phone on.”

  Sonny: 10:12 a.m. “Where you at, man? They still got you?”

  Sonny: 1:30 p.m. “Ty, where the fuck are you? Get your ass on that phone.”

  There were three more messages from Sonny. Then I heard Alyse’s voice.

  “Hey, just calling to talk about the plan tonight. I thought maybe we could meet at Madison Square Garden since Mom and Gavin and I are going shopping in the city. Call my cell.”

  “Ty, me again, call me about tonight.”

  The last one was left ten minutes ago. “Ty, what’s going on? I’m at Madison Square Garden already, I have the tickets. Are you coming?”

  Damn.

  I called her cell phone, and the voice mail picked up. I was getting off easy. “Alyse, hi, it’s me. Looks like I can’t make it to the game. I’m mad sorry I didn’t call before, but I got serious family stuff going on. You still got time to call a friend to go with you. Bye.” I hung up, feeling like shit.

  I dialed room service. “Burger and fries, please. And a Caesar salad and Coke.”

  Then I called Sonny.

  “Ty! I thought you was all shot up, lying in a ditch somewhere!”

  “Don’t be joking like that, Sonny.”

  “I ain’t joking! Where the hell did you go?”

  “I went to the Dunsmore and fell asleep. Got into a fight with Mom. Po-po trashed the crib. And they told her you and me is tight.”

  “Shit!”

  “Tell me about it. Anyway, they kept me at the station all night. Grilled me. It ain’t you they wanted, Sonny, it’s me. Come over in an hour. We’ll talk.”

  “Good. I’ll tell Jones and Menendez to come too. They been bugging all day, but they didn’t wanna meet without you there.”

  “Who’d you talk to?”

  “Menendez.”

  “How’d he sound?”

  “Worried. He heard we got picked up.”

  “Did he mention K-Ron?”

  “No. But I bet they put it together.”

  “Tell him they can show up between eight and nine. Room 42. You be here at seven.”

  “A’ight.”

  I hung up and switched on CNN. Soon the headline crossed the bottom of the screen. Rap star K-Ron charged with possession of narcotics. I flicked to CBS-2 and Fox 5, and caught the tail end of a couple of reports about K-Ron. They had the same information: that cocaine was found in his trunk, and that the arraignment would be early next week.

  Room service came quick, and I stuffed a tip into the guy’s hand. I ate fast, stopping only for a few sips of Coke to make it go down smooth.

  By the time Sonny showed up, I was showered and awake.

  Sonny threw his coat over a chair. “The hell happened last night, son? I can’t believe they kept you there all damn night!”

  My cell rang. “One sec, Sonny. I gotta take this.” I answered the phone. “Hey, Mom.”

  “Ty, sweetie, where you at? Come home, we need to talk. Have you eaten yet?”

  “Chill, Mom. I ain’t coming back just yet. Gimme a few days to think about things.”

  “You ain’t at Sonny’s, are you?”

  “There you go again, Mom.”

  “I’m sorry, honey. I just—”

  “Listen, I’ll call you soon. I’m staying at a friend’s and no, it ain’t Sonny.”

  Sonny was watching me, smiling.

  “Then who? Cheddar?”

  “I’m not gonna tell you because I don’t want you coming over. Don’t worry, everything’s cool. Talk to you soon.”

  “But—”

  “Bye, Mom.”

  Sonny smacked his knee. “Poor Georgina! First Orlando, then you. I’m surprised she didn’t murder you when she found out we was hanging together.”

  “I’m glad there was no gun around. Anyway, what was I saying? Oh, last night. They kept me waiting for two hours trying to make me sweat. Then this Detective Akindele grilled me like a steak, but I stayed rare. I wasn’t gonna admit to picking my nose, much less hustling. They got nothing on me, so they had to let me go. Did you hear any more about K-Ron?”

  “Just that he’s being arraigned on Monday.” He went to the minibar, unscrewed a little bottle, and swigged. “Guess you won’t be there to give moral support, huh?”

  I grunted.

  DISHONOR AMONG THIEVES

  Jones and Menendez showed up at eight. Sonny let them in.

  “We heard you fellas got picked up last night.” Jones’s jacket hung open, his muscles tight under his wife-beater. “Rumor has it K-Ron fingered you as his connection. We want to know if that’s true.”

  Sonny said, “Sorry, man, but we don’t name our customers.”

  I shot Sonny a look, letting him know I’d handle this. He wasn’t sensing them like I was. “Yeah, we got picked up last night because K-Ron said we were his dealers. We supplied him in the past, but the stuff he was caught with wasn’t from us.”

  “Then why’d he say so?” Menendez asked.

  “Darkman must’ve be
en the one who supplied him,” I said. “He’s gotta be holding something big over K-Ron’s head to get him to rat us out.”

  A vein popped out in Jones’s neck. “What the cops got on you?”

  “Jack shit,” I said. “We’d still be locked up if they had anything on us. They won’t be pressing charges, and we won’t be needing no lawyer.”

  “So you saying Kevin King is behind this?” Menendez stared at us. “Why haven’t you dusted him yet?”

  I cleared my throat. “I’m taking care of it. You got nothing to worry about.”

  Jones scoffed. “We been worried ever since this guy reared his ugly-ass head. You got a game plan in case you get charged?”

  “Hearsay ain’t enough to charge us,” I said. “But even if it happened, you wouldn’t get sucked in. You know that, right?” I looked from one to the other.

  They didn’t say nothing, but Menendez took a brown envelope from his briefcase. “We brought this just to make sure.”

  I reached out to take the envelope, but he dropped it on the dresser instead. “No hurry. Have a look at it when we leave. And don’t take it the wrong way, man. It’s just—”

  “Insurance,” Jones finished for him.

  My hands curled into fists. I wasn’t gonna like what was in that envelope. “So, is this all you wanted to talk about?”

  Menendez said, “Yeah. That’s all. We gotta go. We still got business tonight.”

  They left fast. Sonny got to the envelope before I did. He tore it open. The first page was a picture of a girl getting into her car. The next was a closer picture of her. She didn’t seem to know the camera was there.

  “What the fuck?” Sonny roared.

  “Who’s the girl?” She looked kind of familiar.

  “My sister.”

  The next picture was of my mom behind the cash register at her job. She smiled for the camera, probably thinking the person taking the picture was a tourist.

  She didn’t know the picture would be used to threaten her life.

  Sonny smashed his hand on the table. “I’m’a snuff those motherfuckers for this!”

  “We ain’t gonna touch them, and they ain’t gonna touch our families. They just warning us not to sell ’em out.”

  “After all these years, they don’t trust us? And they pull this shit!”

  “They bluffing. They know that if they touch our families Orlando will take ’em down. These pictures are telling us they in control.”