Coach Mac and the HBCU Pt. 03

"Yes I am baby. Why do you ask?"

"Do you think that you can marry me and Yolanda?"

"Baby that's illegal in all 50 states including Puerto Rico."

He laughed. "No. I mean can you perform the ceremony for Yolanda and I to get married."

"Have you got a marriage license yet?

"We got it earlier today." Yolanda said.

"I thought you guys wanted a huge wedding?"

"We will have one. After our son is born and I can fit into a wedding dress."

"We need a witness. Alonzo, see if you can get Darlene on the phone."

"Ok."

A few seconds later...

"She's on her way over." Alonzo said after he clicked off the line.

"Oh baby this is so exciting! We are about to be married." Yolanda said.

"I just hate that my Pop can't be here for it." Alonzo remarked.

"Can't be here? Boy this is the age of Zoom and FaceTime, it'll be like he's right here in the living room with us." Janet said to him.

After the ceremony was completed and the marriage license was signed, Alonzo, Yolanda, Janet and Darlene all celebrated...

Honeymoon style.

Darlene freed herself from the maelstrom of naked sweaty and snoring bodies that lay across the California King bed to walk out onto the back patio to have herself a smoke.

"Do you have two of those?" Janet asked as she joined her on the back porch.

"Here. Take the pack."

"Thanks."

"I didn't figure you for a smoker."

"You probably didn't figure me for an incestuous mother either."

"Considering the fact that I'm the pot, I'm in no position to call out the kettle."

"It was good to see Alfred. He looks like he's mending up very well." Janet said to Darlene.

"He does indeed. He also probably had some thin white lips wrapped around his dick while the ceremony went on." Darlene explained.

"What? Girl stop!"

"I'm telling you the truth. Hell while I was over there with him in Germany, we hooked up with this female officer under his command."

"But what do you think he's going to say when he comes home and sees all this?"

"All what? Us and Alonzo? He isn't going to say shit. He can't say anything about it. Alfred used to fuck his own mother and aunt."

"Noooo! Are you serious?"

"As a damn heart attack."

"He told you?"

"No. I found some letters that she had wrote to him while we were in college along with some highly inappropriate photos of her, her sister Audrey, and their friend Bunny.

Some of the photos was just them in nudes. Others were of them being with their clients. Those were more graphic."

"Like what?"

"Photos of her getting fucked and sucking dick. You can't see any of the faces of the Johns though but they were turning her ass every which way but loose.

That was when I discovered that the myth about white men having small cocks was only a myth. You should have seen the one that was stuffed in her ass."

"And she sent these to her son?"

"Hell he asked for them. The only dictate she had was for him to not let anyone else see them."

"Damn! You found out about this and you still married him?"

"It didn't bother me. It was actually somewhat of a turn on if I'm being honest. I didn't even tell him I knew about them until we were married."

"What made you come clean then?"

"He caught me in bed with Scott's white dick balls deep in my ass while I was riding his uncle.

So it was a bit of "whataboutism."

"Good lord! Yolanda must have sleep apnea or something. That girl is a snoring machine. I can hear her all the way out here." Janet noted.

"I know right? How is he able to sleep up under her with all that noise?"

"He loves her. That tends to cover a multitude of decibels."

"Janet? What are we going to do about this supposed threat against them? Whatever else we might be, that's still our child in there."

"Yes. I've been thinking about that. I'm not thrilled about the way they chose to handle it. They went and enlisted the aid of my cousin."

"Who?"

"King Solomon."

"The gangster?"

"One and the same."

"Wait. If he's your cousin, then he's also..."

"Alonzo's cousin. And yes, Alonzo knows about it and thinks it's just the coolest thing ever."

"Yep. The adults definitely need to take charge here." Darlene remarked.

"So what's our first move."

"First, we need to find out how viable a threat Kennedy poses to the two of them. One way to do so is to talk to someone who knows him very well and who may hold a bit of influence over him and back him off if necessary."

"Someone who knows him...oh god, don't tell me..."

"Yeah girl. See if Coach Mac can meet us here tomorrow night for a friendly little chat."

Chapter 9 Detroit back in the day

"Damn it's slow today." Audrey remarked. "Where are all these Johns' and tricks hiding at today?"

"Yeah, this is even slow for Easter Sunday. Not one damn customer?" Bunny said.

"I think you hoes need to look at the bright side. When we have a house full of hard dick bastards in here y'all complain that your coochies can't catch a break.

Now y'all complaining that the doorbell isn't ringing?"

"Big sis? Have you heard from Alfred?"

"He called this morning."

"Is he still apologizing?"

"Every other word that comes out of his mouth. Just like he did when we were out there with him."

"I don't understand why he can't get it through his head that he was the one who sustained the neck injury in winter practice. Why does he keep apologizing?"

"Because now his football career is over Bunny. His dream of taking us away from this life in favor of one that doesn't have us selling ass is gone.

I had to talk him out of dropping out of college, and getting a job."

Their talk was interrupted by the door chime.

"Well Audrey...there goes that peaceful Easter Sunday morning that you couldn't stand." Lisa said as she rose to open the door for one of their regulars.

Or so she thought...

"Are you Lisa Wells?"

"Uh, yes and you are?" She asked the tall thin dark haired man in the blue windbreaker.

"I'm Special Agent Allan Detorrio, FBI."

"Oh my." She said as she viewed his credentials.

"Ma'am, we have a No Knock warrant. But we didn't feel that it would be necessary since it's just the three of you in here and we know that you don't have ready access to any firearms.

In other words, if you'll just allow me to come inside peacefully, I'd rather not have SWAT do their thing. Capeesh?"

"Is this a raid?"

"It can be. Real quick ma'am."

"But wait, we pay..."

"No. You used to pay Sheriff O'Hare. We just booked him into federal lockup. Right now, you're looking at at least fourteen RICO violations and that's just for starters."

"RICO?"

"Racketeering Influenced Corrupt Organizations act. It's the same law that we use to target the mob."

"Man, we just run a small brothel. Are you trying to say that this is considered organized crime?"

"I won't ask again ma'am. Now can I come in so that we can talk?"

"Yes by all means." She told him as she led him to the dining room table.

"You two ladies. Go sit over there on the couch where I can see you. Don't do anything stupid." The man said with a thick New York accent.

"Would you care for some coffee?" She asked him.

"Sure, I'll take a cup."

Lisa in her nervousness dropped the cup and saucer before she could pour any coffee into it.

Detorrio sprang to his feet to come to her aid.

"Listen, have a seat. I'll pour both of us some. How's that sound?"

"O...ok."

"After he was seated again, Lisa asked him if it were ok for her to go and put on some clothes as she was basically naked with the exception of her silk kimono robe and trademark signature clear high heel strapless mules.

"There'll be time for that later. For now, let's just talk." He told her as he pretended not to look at her body.

"So, how much trouble are we in?"

"That depends on you and how cooperative you and your ladies are."

"How cooperative do you need us to be?" Lisa asked, as she wondered if he was implying what she hoped he might be.

"I'm not after your pussy Lisa." He said to her as if he read her mind. "Besides, you're already very friendly with a colleague of mine."

"And who might that be?"

"Do you recognize this man?"

She looked the photo over of the blonde haired man and her eyes nearly bucked when she saw him in an FBI class photo.

"That's...that's Jason! He's one of my regulars! How the hell can he be an FBI agent? He fucks me at least twice a week!

Isn't that illegal?"

"I see that someone didn't get the memo."

"What memo is that?"

"When the FBI does it, it's not illegal."

"Well aint this a bitch?"

"Look Lisa. We don't want you. You're not hurting anyone here. Not really. We need you to help us get to O'Hare."

"Why? How?"

"There's nothing worse than a dirty cop. Dirty cops cause the public to lose faith in the system. People not trusting the system is the beginning of a system falling apart. Testify against him. Help us to nail the bastard for good."

"Snitch on a Sheriff. Our lives won't be worth a nickel."

"Look, you don't have a lot of options here."

"It seems like I'd be better off taking my chances with a jury."

"Everything will come out in a trial Lisa. And I do mean, everything."

"What? The fact that I'm a hoe? The fact that I did what I had to do after I was widowed? Hell, I might even get a sympathetic juror or..."

"The stuff with you and your son will come out as well.

Or, should I say the stuff with you and your lover?"

If Lisa Wells had ever needed her poker face, it was this moment. She had never given anything away. No hints, no clues, no trail of any kind. The only people who should have known were herself, Audrey, Bunny and Alfred. And they would all rather die than reveal what they had...

So how did this federal clown know about them?

"In the early 80s we bugged the home of the biggest gangster on earth in the form of Paul Castellano. Do you know how we did it? We fucked up the reception on his favorite TV set and when he called the cable company, we showed up posing as cable techs to "fix" the problem.

We installed the bugs right under their noses. Brought down the entire mafia commission."

"What's your point?"

"Bugging you was much easier. Jason placed the cameras. Another "John" brought in the listening devices and before long, we had every place in the house under surveillance except the bathrooms.

Here, lookup at the chandelier. Wave. Now look here." He said as he showed the two of them currently sitting at the dining room table on his phone.

"How...how long have you had this set up?" She asked. There was no longer any point in denying it. He had her dead to rights, her fate...all their fates were sealed.

"Long enough to catch the birthday party festivities and Alfred's promise to take you ladies away from the life."

"I just can't believe that this is even legal."

"Allow me to humor you for a second." He tells her as he clicks the image of the dining table off his phone. "Lets say that you are able to hire the right lawyer and he persuaded a judge to rule in your favor that the video feed as well as the listening devices were installed illegally. At worst, we get a tongue lashing from the judge regarding procedures, your case gets tossed out, and you get to come back home and continue your practice in the world's oldest profession.

But now it leaks somehow to the news media about a sex tape of a real mother and son engaged in an illicit love affair. Even without prosecuting you, your son's life is in the toilet, that knowledge might well kill your business, and even those around you that looked the other way on your current trade will have tons to say about the incest thing.

In other words Lisa, we are the Federal Government, we can afford to be wrong. Can you say the same?"

"How do I know that these cops won't retaliate against me for helping to put O'Hare away?"

"We will provide protection up to and after the trial for a time. Hell, it may not even come down to us needing your testimony. The guy could see what's stacked against him, cut his losses and enter a plea."

"And my deal will still stand?"

"You have my word on it. But, you will need to find other lines of employment. As of now, both your legs and the brothel are closed."

"Other employment. Just like that?"

"Didn't you once work for an assembly line for one of the big three?"

"Yeah. I got laid off."

"You found new employment after that happened, didn't you?"

"Yeah. This one."

"Can you type?"

"Yes."

"We need a typist or two or three in our office. I can speak to my supervisor. Put in a good word for the three of you."

"You'd...you'd do that?"

"For your cooperation, yeah. I would."

"I don't know what to say."

"Hey, we aren't all jerkoffs. Some of us do try to help out here and there, You know?"

"What about my son?"

"I consider myself to be a moral relativist. What might be wrong for me, may not be wrong for the next guy and I tend to be fine with that. I can't tell you not to ever open your legs to your son again but by doing so, what I will ask you are you being fair to him?"

"I don't follow you."

"I mean, its not like you guys can start a family of your own right? I mean, your kids would be your grandkids for Christ sake. What happens when one of you three no longer wants to share him and the bed and instead wants all the goodies to yourself?

If you're not the one he ultimately chooses then you could lose him twice, first as a lover, and then as a son. Is that a chance you're willing to take Mrs. Wells?"

Chapter ten present day Law offices of DeLuna-Fitzgerald-Jameson-Wells.

"May I help you sir?" The receptionist asked the tall African American man standing in front of her desk.

"Yes. I'm here to see Atty DeLuna; I have an appointment."

"And you are?"

"Detective Jack Curtis."

"Are you law enforcement?"

"Private detective."

"Send him in Wanda." Scott said from his office.

After he walks in, he finds Scott at his desk in golf attire with a vat of scotch in hand.

"Jack old friend! Join me." He told him as he tossed him the bottle.

"9am? I think I'll give that a hard pass."

"Understood, but for one such as myself whose name is on the front door. 5pm is whatever time I make it out to be."

"Very profound." Jack replied sarcastically.

"Well, if you won't have a drink with me, then what can I get you? Coffee? Pastry? A blond bimbo with huge fake knockers, shapely legs, a tight ass, with a tongue ten inches long?"

"I'd rather know why you needed to see me today Scott?"

"Well, you've been MIA for a while now and I wanted to make sure that you hadn't been bumped off by some cheating husband that you were surveilling in order to garner the long suffering little wife a better divorce settlement."

"Naw. I just took a bit of a vacation after helping a lady locate the son she had given up for adoption years prior."

Scott laughed. She actually paid your absorbent type of rates to locate this kid? She must've really felt guilty about dropping him off at fire station."

"Shit, she's fairly well off so my rates weren't an issue for her at all. Check this out. The kid was literally hiding in plain site. She is a professor at Carver and the kid attends Carver.

Can you believe that shit?"

"Professor at Carver? What's her name?" Scott asked suspiciously.

"You know that I can't tell you that."

"With what my firm pays you in retainer fees? You'd better give up your ATM pin code if I ever ask for it."

"Sigh...Dr. Janet-Ross-Henry."

"Janet! I fucking knew it!"

"You know her?"

"Tell me about the kid. How old is he?"

"23."

"Fucking lying cunt!"

"What the hell is going on here Scott?"

"His name! What's the kid's name?"

"Alonzo. His name is Alonzo Wells."

"Bullshit! I know both of his parents. Both are 100% black just like Alonzo."

"Scott?"

"Yeah?"

"I never mentioned that Alonzo was bi-racial."

"Your ass! You just said that..."

"I only said his name. That was it. So why did you...wait, he's your son isn't he?" Curtis said as his detective instincts, honed after decades of deduction and induction, had put two and two together.

"You're the reason why Alonzo is bi-racial."

"That kid is a cunt hair away from being a multi fucking millionaire. And he's my son? Jesus fucking Christ! There really is a god."

"It may not be that easy."

"Wha...? What the fuck are you on about Jack?"

"There is no name under "father" on his original birth certificate. You'd have to prove paternity in other ways if you want to get close to him."

"DNA?"

"Good luck compelling the kid to submit to a DNA test."

"I won't need to." Scott said as he licked a stamp, placed it in a paper towel and handed it to Jack Curtis. "Janet is one anal and thorough bitch. She would have ordered a DNA test straightway.

Find out where the test was done, throw some tech a fistful of cash and have him test mine against Alonzo's.

If she thinks she's going to treat me like some mamaluke and cut me out, shes fucking nuts."

"I'll get right on it."

"I want you to give this top priority. That kid will soon be richer than this entire fucking firm. Or as I should say. "My long lost son will soon be richer than this entire firm."

"Your long lost son..." Jack Curtis said with a slight chuckle. "Scott, if God was to ever wring you out, there wouldn't be enough morality found in you to fit in a thimble.

Scott laughed at the assessment and then buzzed his secretary. "April?"

"Yes sir?"

"Is Atty Wells in her office?"

"No sir. She called in today."

"Put a memo on her e-calendar that I'd like to meet with her tomorrow evening at our usual spot."

"Right away sir."

"Thank you Love." He said and clicked off the box. "Now, back to you Jack, I probably should be highly offended over such a biting critique of my character but I'm not, and do you know why?"

"Because it's factually accurate?"

"You're god damned right! Having an abundance of morality in my chosen field of endeavor is a guarantee to ensure that you lose 90% of the cases that you choose to take before a jury and try."

A world away in Arizona, inside the office of Coach Peter Kennedy.

"You had one god damned job Donato! One fucking job. Keep them the fuck here while I jerked that little spoiled son of a bitch along until after the season.

Instead you opt to let them leave? Go back to Carver and Coach Mac? Are you trying to cost me my title? What the fuck is wrong with you?" Kennedy said in a profanity laced tirade against his star player.

"Your title? I thought that it was our title Coach Kennedy? You know? Team effort."

"Don't you get flippant with me, "Goombah". If I hadn't dragged your ass away from Bensonhurst Brooklyn, you'd be in a basement of a social club somewhere with a pricked finger and a burning saint in your hand pledging fealty to La Cosa Nostra.

Alonzo Wells shut your asses down cold, twice! Best batting lineup in college history and you couldn't do jack shit against one guy from a sub par college. Do you really think things are going to be different a third time?"

"That's why we play the game on the field and not on some theoretical bullshit basis." Kevin Donato replied.

"Who are you? Ari-fucking-stotle? You're a fucking knock-around guy with a baseball bat. You want to play for the home crowd in Yankee Stadium one day? Then you do what the fuck I say without question.

Capeesh Paisono?"

"Is that it? Can I go?"

"Tell your girlfriend Dawn that I need to see her."

"About what?"

"What the fuck do you think? Now send her chocolate ass in here."

After Kevin Donato had exited the office, Peter Kennedy pulled up his computer and went to the file where he had Yolanda's photo collage stored.

He especially loved the one and only shot of the two of them that he had taken from a hidden camera while he had plowed her ass on that fateful night.