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CHAPTER 2

Stephon

I was working tonight because I was short a man. One of my private security guards, Brody, called out due to a family emergency. He was supposed to be here, but I was taking his place. I’d been at Porter’s Steakhouse for about thirty minutes, handling all the security aspects of the job my company had been hired to do.

After conducting a thorough inspection and sweep of the room, I placed a chair in the room’s darkened corner. I wanted to be unseen and unheard. I refused to stand up for hours listening to five dumb motherfuckers talk business. I also couldn’t sit long because I had a bum knee. So, I’d have to move around at some point, but until then, I wanted to be comfortable. I wasn’t in the headspace tonight, so I hoped this meeting wouldn’t be long.

The mayor, police chief, one of the councilmen, and some old nigga from NY named Julius Miller and his lackey were to be in attendance. I’d run checks on Miller, and nothing came up outside of him pushing weight back in the day. He’d moved from LA and settled in NY; he wasn’t making any noise, nor was he a threat. His name barely popped up in my background check. The other three I was familiar with.

I glanced at my watch and checked the time. It was approaching seven o’clock, and I would need to meet the mayor outside to escort him in. One of my drivers had picked him up and alerted me that they were approaching. As I left, I did one last scan, locking the door behind me. I’d retrieved the key from the owner, who assured me it was the only one. I couldn’t have anyone accessing that room before I returned.

The mayor hired my firm, Rockwell Security, tonight, and I was thorough. Before standing in for Brody, I’d also had my analyst run background checks on Porter’s staff. I didn’t trust a soul who would be in or out of this establishment. Not even the mayor. He was the worst of them all. Which is precisely why I didn’t vote for that grimy motherfucker. I was more of a watch and guard from a distance kind of person, so this shit was vexing me.

As I walked back through Porter’s Steakhouse, I saw it was packed. There weren’t this many people here when I first arrived. I also took a mental inventory of the present waitstaff as I walked through. I’d requested a photo file of every employee working tonight when the background checks were run. Everything appeared to be in typical operation and secure.

Exiting to stand on the curb, I breathed deeply and exhaled, placing my hands in my pockets.

It’s about to be a long fucking night !

Out of boredom, I started to people-watch. About a block away, I spotted a woman. What made her stand out was the fact that she was looking down at her body, aggressively tying the sash on her coat. It was strange because it was cold, but not as cold as she was making it seem. If she tied that shit any tighter, I was sure she’d cut off her circulation. She was tall for a woman and stood out over the crowd of people she was pushing through. I watched a little longer to see if she would raise her head because she was now looking down at her phone. There was also this long-ass ponytail billowing in the wind behind her.

More than enough to wrap around my fist .

How my mind had gone there, I couldn’t tell you. Finally, I was graced with her face.

Damn!

She was beautiful. I didn’t want to take my eyes off her, but before I could stare too long, the mayor’s car had arrived at the curb. I waited for my driver to let him out and greeted him. Clearing my now parched throat to speak.

“Mr. Mayor,” I acknowledged with a head nod.

“Rockwell?” He addressed me questioningly.

“Yes, Sir, Brody had a family emergency he needed to handle.” He knew I didn’t usually take jobs like these because I hated the shit. I’d told his ass so every time he requested me. He knew I was the best, so he’d always shoot his shot.

“Very well. Please give him my regards,” he said as I escorted him to the hostess's booth, where she greeted him .

“Good evening, Mr. Mayor. Welcome to Porter’s. Your party hasn’t arrived. Would you like to wait for them?”

“No. Once they all arrive, send them back.”

“As you wish, right this way, sir.”

From what I’ve observed, the few times I’ve taken this job, the mayor had this thing about arriving early. He didn’t like being the last person to enter a room. I agreed with him because I didn’t like that shit either. I wanted to get there so early that you’d forget I was there, especially if we were going to be in a room full of people. This is why as soon as I unlocked the door to the private dining room, I took off my suit jacket and perched my big ass in the heavily shaded corner of the room in the chair I placed there. I probably should have stayed by the door, but I was quick on the draw.

A few moments later, the door opened, and the hostess brought in the rest of the mayor’s dinner party. Once seated, a young waitress came in to take their drink orders. She was a cute little thing. She probably shouldn’t have been chosen to wait in this room full of predators. She bounced around to each man, clenching her jaw to hold back her retorts as they made their advances and inappropriate comments. She seemed to be handling herself well. I’ll admit she had some bite and hid her annoyance well.

I hated this part of the job, which required me to be idle for hours. This was busy work for me. It kept me occupied without actually doing anything. After only ten minutes, I was bored and didn’t know how long I could sit, listening to them talk business. They were terrible at it. Neither of them had said one single thing that made fucking sense, legal or illegal. The mayor had forgotten I was even here, and his guests had no idea I ever was. I’m assuming that’s why the conversation steered toward their illegal dealings.

I guess they’re going to get right to it then.

“Have you heard anything about who has taken over for One, Two, and Three? Do we know if they’re confirmed dead?” Miller asked the police chief. I quietly sat up from my slouch to give this conversation my undivided attention. One, Two, and Three were mythical in the streets and underworld drug realm. Hearsay was that they supposedly distributed drugs for the cartel throughout the entire US. Rumor has it that they’d been killed by The Cartel and replaced with new leadership. At least, that’s what the streets were saying. Working in this line of work with a bunch of slimy ass snakes like these meant I’d heard it all.

“No, it’s been two years, and I haven’t heard a fucking thing.” The chief answered.

That checks out. Police never know shit but what they fabricate.

“I may have heard something about that. Let me get in touch with my guy.” The councilman said. His name was Burks.

“Why in the hell haven’t you said anything before now?” Miller said.

“I didn't know you needed any information on them. However, it’s going to cost you,” Burks responded.

“Well, I need for you and your men to put your ears to the damn streets and figure it the hell out. I need some fucking answers. It’s...” Before he could continue his conversation, the door opened again. It was her. The beautiful woman I’d seen walking towards Porter’s. She was now in here acting like a damn server. She’d donned a waitstaff uniform. Her hair, which was previously hanging, had been pinned up. She looked as if her beautiful ass really worked here.

“I’m sorry, gentlemen, the last waitress had something come up. I’ll be taking over for her for the night,” she said with her sultry voice. It was alluring and commanding. So much so that it made my dick jump. I heard the groans and damns under the breaths of every man at that table. That shit unexpectedly pissed me off. Hell, I was letting off a few under my breath my damn self. I knew where their minds had gone because mine was, too. I immediately had murder on my mind. She wasn’t mine, though, even if I wanted her to be. Shorty was a bad motherfucker, even with the smudged makeup she was wearing.

Why in the hell is her makeup smudged?

As she took out a notepad and scribbled each man’s request, I had three thoughts. The first was the same as earlier.

Damn!

Not only was she beautiful, with flawless sepia-toned brown skin, but she was also sexy as hell. That damn coat she had on earlier was hiding a slim, thick Coke bottle body out of this world. Starting at her feet, I scanned her body. She was standing tall in sky-high stilettos. I knew no server would ever come to work a shift with them because she wasn’t...a waitress. I’d be damned if they weren’t giving me erotic thoughts on top of my first three. The second was…

Who in the hell is she?

I needed to know for more reasons than the obvious. Something in the back of my mind told me that I knew her or had seen her somewhere. I was immensely attracted to her. As I stared, I was committing everything about her to memory. Her long, natural hair had been pinned up since I saw her outside. Her smooth skin. The pout in her lips, the definition in her cheekbones, and deep-set brown eyes. Eyes that held me captive. Her presence was awakening both the sleeping beasts in me. My last thought was that…

I don’t give a fuck how beautiful and sexy she is, she better not be on no bullshit, or she would meet my twins, Smith and Wesson. Maybe?

Who was I kidding? I didn’t harm women or children. I was, however, intrigued. With that curiosity, I decided to make my presence known. With my jacket off, she would see the two guns under each of my arms in my shoulder holster. I stood to head over to the bar. Once I fully entered the light, her eyes widened and were fixed on me. My fucking heart stopped. I wanted to fuck with her, so I did.

“Beautiful, I think you have a…what in the hell is that…is that a spider?” I said, squinting and leaning in to get a better look.

“Oh shit, I think it’s your eyelash.” Her hand immediately went to her eye, nearly smacking it and pulling off the lash. Then her hand traveled to rest on her chest as she looked at me. It was rising and falling in rapid succession. I had startled her. Her expression morphed into a scowl, but she quickly schooled it. I chuckled at her current state. I continued studying her as I found a bottle of whiskey and a glass, then poured myself two fingers before leaning over the bar. As she kept meeting my gaze, I noticed that she wasn’t scared that I was there. She was pissed.

Interesting!

She continued with her act, and after taking their orders, she told them a server would bring their meals shortly. I waited for her return, but another waitress had come in, one I was sure was employed by Porter’s.

What was she here for, or who?

Those thoughts plagued my mind. My expression now mirrored the pissed one she wore because once my presence was established in the room by the mayor, their conversation about One, Two, and Three ceased. I wasn’t a nosey nigga by any means; I just liked to know shit. That conversation seemed like some shit I needed to know. The questions that needed answers were quickly piling up. I sat, once again, idle because the excitement had passed. I had this fucked up feeling that my life was about to change.

I don’t know if this is going to be good or bad.