Dyamond Ch. 04

The Cave

Saturday, 5:00 pm

Shauna shivered as she waited impatiently for the door to open. The echoing sound of the silver knocker died out slowly. She glanced over her shoulder, where Deejay was still standing steadily with the gun aimed at her back. Finally, she heard shuffling inside, then the loud clunk of a huge metal lock. She inhaled deeply as both red doors slowly opened.

Big Cash stood with his back to the room, cast in shadow by the fireplace he was facing. He was basically what she'd expected, tall and strong. His muscles didn't bulge through his grey suit, but they didn't have to-it was obvious what he was capable of. When he finally spoke, his voice scraped along the bottom of his vocal range like a boat on a riverbed, gravelly and harsh.

"I'll take it from here. Thank you." He gestured to Shauna to step inside, and she did, hesitantly. Looking back at Deejay one more time, she took a mental photo of the powered doors slowly closing, blacking out the last of the evening sun.

THUD. The doors shut loudly, then locked themselves. Shauna's gaze slowly returned to Cash. He stood waiting, staring into the fire. For what seemed like forever, he didn't speak, didn't move. Her eyes traveled around the room, taking in the dark extravagance of drug money. Everything was glazed dark red wood, black granite, opulent silver. The couches were deep red, plush and piled with pillows, and the center of the floor was adorned with a terrifying lion-skin rug, snarling face and all. "What do you think of my home?" He inquired softly.

"It's..." Shauna steadied her voice and cleared her throat. God forbid she let Cash hear the fear in her heart. "It's beautiful. How many people died to finance it?"

There was a long silence, as Cash turned to face her. He was still cast in shadow-which was certainly deliberate-and she vaguely saw his eyes reflecting the ambient light in the room. Very slowly, he made a show of counting the fingers on one hand, then the other. Finally he looked up and said, "Five hundred. And seventy six."

Shauna's breath caught in her throat. "Why? Why so many?"

Cash waved to the couch. "Sit."

"I'm not a dog." She kept her feet planted firmly on the ground, as Cash approached her calmly. As he stepped closer, he snapped his fingers once, and the lights came on-not a sudden click like a lightswitch, but a slow, ambient rise like a theater.

The warm glow poured down from a crystal chandelier overhead, illuminating the two from head to toe as they took one another in. He was too perfect, like a movie character; his neck was smooth where it showed above his suit, except for the very edge of a hidden chest tattoo. His hands were strong but soft, adorned with a single gold ring set with some kind of black stone. But it was his strong jawline and soft lips that made him look so appealing. Even in her terror Shauna had to admit she understood what women saw in him.

"Have a seat, Shauna. Make yourself comfortable." He took her hand and led her to the couch despite her protests. "Nobody thinks you're a dog. But you still have to do as I say. From this point forward you're mine."

"I'm not 'yours'," Shauna laughed, "I'm a grown woman. I don't belong to anyone but myself." She crossed her arms and legs defiantly but couldn't help sinking deeper into the softness of the couch.

Cash settled into the armchair opposite the couch, and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Let me ask you something. How much do you know about Dyamond?"

"I know it's basically addictive ecstasy. I never really touched the stuff, That was all Giovanni's business. I just counted and managed the cash." She shifted uncomfortably when she mentioned Giovanni's name.

"Well, that's how you sell it. Tell people it's like ecstasy only better. But let me tell you-that shit is a thousand times worse than crack cocaine. If you touch that rock one time, it's a death sentence. You'll sit on death row for a while, yeah, maybe nine or ten years. But eventually...it will all come crashing down." The fire crackled, and Shauna waited for him to continue, not sure how to reply. "They all look fine, don't they? The dyamond-heads? They're slim and healthy and they have a glow in their eyes and their skin that they've never had before. But how long would you say Dyamond has been in the US?" Shauna shook her head. She had no idea. Thankfully he answered his own question: "About five years. And in about five more, they'll be dropping like flies." Shauna shivered.

Cash leaned more deeply into his elbows, making sure he was looking directly into her eyes. The light in her eyes showed an intelligence that was rare in this day and age. "So Shauna, let's say you want to start a business selling Dyamond. What do you need? Where do you start?"

"Investment capital...and a supplier?" It was an educated guess, but still a guess.

"Close...buying Dyamond in bulk from a supplier is expensive, especially if you're operating on a multi-million dollar scale. No, to start a Dyamond operation, you start with high quality crack cocaine. The cheap kind, in massive bulk from Brazil or Mexico. Then that crack is clarified, perfected, and embellished. It goes from the consistency of white candle wax to solid little rocks, each one perfectly formed and crystal clear." Cash spoke like Dyamond were the love of his life, like Dyamond were God and he were a preacher.

"It's the most pristine drug ever created. There's no powder, only rocks, nothing for a dog to sniff out, not the slightest odor." Cash's voice was struggling now, as if he were running out of breath in his excitement. "And I am the Creator. I have a complete and total monopoly over all the Dyamond coming into the US, and as their main source of income, I basically control the Mexican and Brazilian cartels as well. In this world, I am God."

Shauna opened her mouth to speak, and closed it again. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat again, glancing over her shoulder at the door.

"So you're right. You are a full grown woman and you own yourself. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. But as long as you are under this roof, you will do as I say." Cash reached into his pocket and pulled out a large smartphone, not marked with any brand or logo. It looked like a custom item, about six inches from corner to corner. "There's a lot of methods for keeping people under control when necessary. To this day I've directly and indirectly ended the lives of five hundred and seventy six people who didn't want to do as they're told. As long as that method works for me, I will continue to use it." He held up the phone.

Shauna literally jumped in her seat, her heart rate increasing rapidly. She leaned in to make sure she was seeing the image correctly. It was a live video feed, with the current time in the upper left corner, ticking away the seconds. The feed showed a bird's eye view of a little girl's bedroom, a teenage girl fast asleep in the bed. An older woman stood nearby, folding clothes and silently placing them into a chest of drawers. She went on about her chores, unaware of the hidden camera watching her every move.

Unable to contain her rage, Shauna sprung across the coffee table, her fist connecting with the left side of Cash's face. "That's my fucking sister you-" Before she could think of an expletive strong enough his hand struck her back in the same place, right across her face. The blow knocked her backward, her knees hitting the coffee table as she fell back onto it. The table beneath her was warm from the fireplace, and she placed her stinging cheek against the wood, gripping the edge of the tabletop as she fought back tears. Shauna had been in a lot of fights, with men and women alike, but she'd never been hit so hard in a single blow. Her vision was swimmy at best as she pushed herself back to her feet.

He stood over her, waiting for her eyes to meet his. "I don't want to hurt you, Shauna. That's not what I've brought you here for. But I will if I have to. I will not hesitate."

The tears finally started to flow. "Please don't hurt my mother...leave my family out of this..."

Cash reached down and gently touched her face where he had struck her. It was getting redder by the moment. "I won't touch them as long as you are here. But I can't make any promises if you leave."

"I can't stay here forever...you can't just keep me forever!" Shauna swallowed back more tears and pushed Cash off of herself. He stumbled back, letting her fight. She ran for the door, but remembered the metal hydraulic lock. Instead, she grabbed a wooden side table beside the door and ran headlong at the nearest window. The late evening sun barely glowed through the deep velvety curtains, and Shauna aimed for that peek of light as she hurled the small table with all of her strength. It bounced off the glass, clattering to the floor.

Screaming with rage, she picked it up and smashed it against the window, this time tearing the curtains back. With a crunch, the table split in half, and Shauna sunk to the floor, gripping her hair in frustration. Strong arms wrapped around her from behind, pulling her to her feet. "Stop it." Cash demanded, "You're going to hurt yourself."

Shauna spun in his arms, thrashing in his grip until she realized it was useless. Looking her captor in his eyes from point blank range, she said through gritted teeth, "I would rather be DEAD, than here, associated with a bunch of thieves, murderers, and rapists." And with the last word she spit into his eye.

"Bitch!" He shouted, pushing her back and wiping his face. Shauna stayed on her feet, squared up. She expected him to hit her again, but he only glared. "I may be a murderer, and a thief, but I protect my people. I do what I do so that MY family can be comfortable, not just fed. So I can buy my mother a house instead of sending her my food stamps. I kill to protect my team, and those who show me loyalty. And I may be a thief and a murderer, but I don't associate with rapists."

Shauna stood there, her mouth open, struggling for words. "Maybe you should tell that to your fucking goons."

Cash's facial expression changed from anger to confusion. "...What?"

"Don't play dumb. I'm sure you told them to give your new piece of ass a test run before I got here. Shit really fucked me up, to be honest." Shauna looked self-consciously down at her own body, adjusting the waistband of her baggy sweats, imagining Cash's sweaty body on top of her next, taking her by force. She shuddered.

Cash took a reluctant step towards her, his eyes narrowing. "Who did it?"

Barely able to whisper, she said, "Both of them. Deejay and Darius." She couldn't stand to meet his gaze as he took another hesitant step to her.

"Would it make you feel any better to see them come to justice?" He asked, wrapping his arms around her. She tensed in his arms but didn't fight this time.

Shauna thought for a moment. She flashed back to the feeling of being sandwiched between the two men, her shame and guilt and disgust. "Not really," she mumbled, "I would rather just see them dead."

Holding her by the shoulders, Cash made sure she was looking him in the eye before saying, "Consider it done."

"No wait, I-" Shauna started, but stopped as Cash placed his finger on her lips.

"I told you I protect my people. Now come back to the couch and relax. We have more to discuss." Feeling overwhelmed and in shock, she surrendered to his gentle nudging and let him lead her back to her comfortable seat on the couch. "Did Deejay and Darius tell you why I wanted you more than anyone else?" Sinking into the cushions, Shauna shook her head. She pulled a soft pillow into her lap and held it tightly in both hands, kneading the plush fabric to keep herself grounded in the moment. She felt like at any moment her mind would no longer be able to handle what was happening, and she would either lose consciousness or simply collapse. She kept twisting the tassels on the pillow, rubbing her palms against the smooth fabric. She looked up at Cash, who was watching her curiously.

"So?" She finally prompted, "Why me?"

Cash leaned back in the armchair facing the couch. His fingers ran over the carved wooden arms as he took a deep breath. "When I was thirteen, Molly was the drug of the year. I heard stories of the empires people had built off of crack cocaine in the eighties and shit, but crack was dead. Everyone knew it was trash and it destroyed your body, so you could really only sell to addicts. Nobody else wanted to try it. Ecstasy was giving people seizures, so they phased that out too. All people wanted was Molly, Molly, Molly."

"I built my little team on my block, and we made thousands. We fed our families and we had each others' backs. Everything was good. But Molly is missing one key thing-it's not addictive. Not like cocaine and its derivatives. You could pop three Mollies one weekend and never touch it again. And in the drug business, that's bad." Shauna nodded. She remembered being addicted to meth and trying to use Molly to fill the gaps. But it just never felt the same. When you're addicted to something, that's all you need.

"So one day I got a phone call from an international number." Cash spun his ring around his finger absentmindedly. "An old friend of my late father." Shauna leaned forward, fascinated.

"Venicius Alvarez was one of the most powerful cartel leaders on earth. His cartel controls the flow of crack cocaine coming from Brazil that supplies about 60% of my raw materials. I owe my current success to him alone. He taught me everything about Dyamond, how to make it, how to move it, how to sell it. And he taught me this: 'An obedient woman is the only status symbol I accept, because it shows a man is strong. The most foolish of fools can wear a gold watch. Possessions mean nothing.' Alvarez said those words in 2004. In 2005, he died." Cash sat back in his seat, took a deep breath, and fell silent. Shauna waited, afraid that he wouldn't continue if she spoke. She was intrigued. In the last thirty minutes Cash had gone from being a monster in her eyes, to almost human. She wanted to hear more.

Finally, he spoke. "Alvarez and my father were inseparable friends. They did not grow up together, but they both grew up in poverty, my father in the gutters of the inner city here in New York, and Alvarez in the cardboard slums of Brazil. They met on a bank heist here in the states and were the only men of seven to survive the police shootout that ensued. Rather than return to the man who had organized the heist, they decided they would never again bow to anyone, and they divided the money between themselves and set their minds to creating a new drug that would rule the world. And so Dyamond was born, in a tiny kitchen in Queens."

Shauna held out her hand to stop him. "How many people have heard this story?" Cash smiled, a real smile this time.

"None." He took her hand and kissed the back of it lightly. "You are the first person to whom I have opened my mind in a very long time. I want you to understand that I care about you. I haven't brought you here to hurt you, or make you feel afraid."

"Then why am I here??" Shauna demanded, snatching her hand back.

Cash grinned again. "I was just getting to that..."