Page 19 of Grand Master

We approached two men when we entered through the double doors.

They did a horrible job at checking Tone and me.

That told me multiple things in itself. They didn’t have loyalty to Smack, nor did they give a fuck about his safety.

It also told me that they were being starved.

Smack wasn’t making sure his men ate good financially which would be an advantage for me.

The revolver behind my back was still secure as Tone and I walked down a dimly lit hallway.

The overhead lights buzzed like they were filled with flies.

The place smelled pungent, like Smack never hired a cleaning team to rid the space of all the dead bodies that was killed inside of here.

A kingpin with no structure. I shook my head and continued to follow behind one of his men who guided us to Smack.

The man pushed an office door open, the smell inside the room greeted me first. Weed smoke and cheap cognac.

Smack looked up, his red dreadlocks were tied back, his diamond grill shined matching his iced out Cuban chain that hung from his neck.

Red freckles spread across his high cheek bones and nose as he tried to intimate Tone with a so-called icy stare down.

Two more men stood behind him gripping their Glocks like they knew how to use them.

They didn’t, in fact they never caught a body. I could see the innocence in their eyes. There was always a soulless look in a man’s eyes that took a life. These men of Smacks looked like they were serving him just to say they were gangsters.

“I didn’t think the west would pull up so boldly. Thought y’all only sent text messages.” He said leaning forward on a gray worn leather couch. His eyes danced across me like he was looking for me to crack with emotion.

I’m all of L.A., not just the face of the west… I thought with the corner of my lip lifting into a half smirk.

I stayed quiet for a second, letting my silence weigh the room.

I inhaled as Tone stepped in before me. Once Tone stepped in, he crossed his hands in front of him and stood to the side so he could watch my back.

Finally, I stepped forward, eyes locked on Smack.

He felt me, hated the man that stood before him.

I gave him enough time to soak in that; my presence alone rattled him in ways that he would never get over until I put him out of his misery.

“You talk like a man with a plan.” I said with a shit eating grin that was meant to taunt him.

“Only thing is, this ain’t poker, Smack. This is chess.” I chuckled.

And…I’m always on the board of chess... I looked around the dirty room then dug in my pocket.

I pulled a king chess piece from my pocket engraved with diamonds.

I fisted it in my hand then rolled it back in forth making it stimulate the chess piece inside my head, once it moved, it was game time for me.

Tone chuckled purposely; he kept his hand rested on the butt of his gun.

Smack stood, adjusting his Gucci belt. He brushed his shirt down like I was considered the nagging piece of lent that stuck to an expensive shirt.

“My pops used to say the same shit, you probably remember since you spent a lot of time with him, right?” He finally replied.

There it is, the emotion… it flickered in his eyes. He was looking for me to offer some sort of an apology, perhaps condolences. I smiled at him coldly.

“I remember putting him down like the dog he was. Right next to my Pops. Perhaps they both took their last breaths at the same time.” I shrugged. I remembered it so vividly; too bad Smack wasn’t inside of the house so he could witness his Pops like I witnessed mine take his last breath.

His jaw twitched, one of his boys shifted then grabbed at his gun. Tone stepped forward quickly, his gun was in his hand before I could blink. I lifted a finger, stopping him instantly.

“Let him move. I’ve been wanting a reason to redecorate this nasty place with brain matter.” I said calmly.

“Besides Tone, if he wanted me dead, I would have been that soon as I pulled up. Am I right, Smack? It’s been over a decade since I decided to let you live…Tell me, why so much hostility now?” I asked.

I held the king chess piece up with my index finger and thumb. Smack chuckled lowly then raised his hand, it was a gesture for his men to calm down.

“What can I help you with, Grand?” He pulled his pants up then sat back down. I made sure to outnumber him, even though I could have stepped in this bitch solo. I was positive with the mind control that I possessed over people that I would have walked out in one piece without troubles.

That’s right pussy, sit yo bitch ass down like your father used to do.

I remained standing, looking down at Smack like the punk bitch he would remain to be in my eyes. His light skin turned a shade red; in my mind he still looked like the same red head boy standing on the sidewalk of my Pops trap house with sadness reeking from his soul.

“Is my dad coming out?” A small voice called out to me before I reached for the door handle of Pops car.

I looked right into the face of a freckled boy that looked younger than me. He had to be around eight years old. His red hair, and light complexion made me think that he was lying. He looked nothing like Rosco’s bitch ass.

“Who yo daddy?” I asked him, keeping my eyes glued on him.

I touched Pops revolver that was tucked in front of my blood-soaked jeans ready to aim it at him if he tried anything funny.

“Rosco.” He uttered timidly.

“That pussy dead.” I spat with no remorse.

Pops dead too… Come see about me for revenge when you old enough to understand, and I’ll kill you too.

I should have killed Smack then, but something told me to save the best for last. I wondered over the years if he was finally mature enough to understand the kind of man his Pops was.

Rosco took both my parents away. I was in no rush to end his blood line because by the time I got done with Smack, he would beg for me to end him.

“I’m not here to ask for your business. I’m here to tell you, starting this week, Friday precisely…The Eastside buys from me.”

He scoffed soon as the words were spoken. He curled his mouth like he smelled shit.

“You tryna pussy me on my own turf?” He frowned.

I stepped even closer, close enough to smell the fear under his cologne. I saw the sweat just above his lip. He was going to save face in front of his men.

“I don’t try, Smack. However, there’s always options in this life.

We already know who runs most of L.A. Your Mexican plug has already backed out from providing you with whatever shitty shit you’ve been coping from him.

So…” I tilted my head to the side and looked him directly in the eyes without blinking.

“The options are…prepare to buy from me or you can watch your men vanish one by one until the hood forgets your face like they forgot your daddy’s.” I smiled.

“Don’t mention my father.” He grilled me.

“Oh,” I flattened the chess piece in the palm of my hand and clutched my chest like I was offended.

“Should I mention your mommy? She resides at thirteen-twenty-four St. Andrews place, right in Gardena. She loves taking her puppies out for nice evening walks right around this time. I hear she loves to call you around eight p.m to ask all about your day…She worries about you the most, so she drops down to her knees right after talking to you on the phone to pray. It would be such a shame to have to snatch her ass up and place her in one of my cells.” I smirked.

“Besides, Smack… I wasn’t the one that mentioned your daddy first, now, was I?” I chuckled, pressing my chest with the king chess piece.

“Let’s stick to the topic, shall we? I don’t have much time to waste here.” I looked around disgusted all over again with the way things looked.

I saw a roach crawl up the cigarette-stained wall. Dried up blood soaked the rusty looking carpet beneath my boots.

“A lot of muthafucka’s come from the west just to cop from the east! It’s evident that your shit ain’t hitting hard enough. Because of that, I refuse to buy anything from you!” He said with the corners of his mouth foaming.

He quickly diverted his eyes in shame. He was embarrassed, horrified, and itching to make things settle between the both of us. Too late…your clock is already ticking.

“Hear yourself clearly, then look your men in the eyes. Make sure you look them in the eyes long enough so they can accept that you are the reason for their early funeral. I don’t beg, Smack.

So, tell me, is that your final answer?” I tilted my head to the side and leaned in close enough for only him to hear me clearly.

“Daddy’s no longer here to protect you. You should think really hard about your next words.” I added.

Silence.

The air in the room turned sharp with tension, I embraced it. It was always moments like this where I could literally feel the fear radiating off of a weak man’s flesh. Smack swallowed down hard; his jaws clenched tightly. His eyes shifted away from me followed by his hands dropping in defeat.

“…How much a brick?” He finally asked.

I smiled for real this time, I stepped back and looked at his two men behind him. Pussies… Y’all let this kind of man lead you all. I shook my head.

“Good boy.” I winked at him, adding insult to injury.

I reached into my pocket then tossed a flash drive right into his lap.

“That holds the full inventory, pricing, and the route where you will meet at to collect. Delivery comes Friday; I would hate to come back to this dump to have another conversation wasting time. I suggest you spread the word and move fast. I’m kind of eager to catch your mommy out on an evening walk with her puppies. ”

I turned, ready to walk out. Tone stayed in place until I was out of the door. I picked up my pace not out of fear of what would happen but because the smell was pissing me off. How could one live so filthy with the means and money to live clean.

Let him choose, then I’ll make the final decision. Today, I not only came to Smack to turn the Eastside into a better place. I came today to show my face to remind him that he had a deadly debt that would be collected, soon. On behalf of his bitch ass father Rosco.

By the time I hopped into the backseat of my truck, I was a hundred percent sure that Smack would start plotting. He would plot out a way to go to war, an easy war on his behalf that would ensure his revenge for his father.

I loved war, loved to end things, and even more…I loved the sight and smell of blood.

“What do you want Dre to do with the kids of the fiend?” Tone asked as soon as he stepped outside of the building.

“Tell Staress to go buy a lot of kid shit, clothes, shoes, and toys…no tablets. We starting a Grand daycare.” I smiled widely at the idea.

“Who gone watch the kids?” Tone shook his head in disbelief.

“Mira will, she needs to earn her keep.”