Free Ch. 04

"How do you know about it, then?" Manny asked, still not dropping his aim. He did, however, look at Mo with a nod of his head towards the door, telling him to open it. If he was going to fill Rick's lying ass with some hot shit, he'd much rather it be safely inside where he can control the sound of gunfire.

The door was opened, and the trio stepped inside before Manny locked them in.

Only now did he relax a little, though his gun was still directed at his target. Rick was in his house. This was his world. In here, he was a god. He decided who lived and who died.

For Rick, stepping into the warehouse was akin to flashing back in time. It'd been some years since he's seen it. He felt like he was walking into a high school during a ten-year reunion. A barrage of old memories mingled with the new things that had been added since he last saw it.

Rick's eyes roamed around nostalgically. Manny impatiently cleared his throat to snap him from his reverie

"Answer my question, Bruh." He commanded, his fingers dancing over the trigger.

Rick finally looked at him, gave an unconcerned chuckle, and said, "Everybody knows about you getting robbed, dumb ass. You can't keep something like that quiet. The streets talk." Then, with a knowing smirk, he asked, "The Columbians know about it yet?"

Manny didn't answer that, but he didn't have to. It was a rhetorical question anyway. The two of them knew how these things worked. There were so many eyes and ears in the streets that belonged to the Sanchez family that they might as well be considered omnipotent. Time, at least in Manny's case, was borrowed against a vicious loan shark.

The desperation is Manny's demeanor was evident, even under all that bravado.

Rick cast a glance at his poor henchmen. They were standing there, trying to look tough and intimidating. He remembered Tuck and Mo. Before he got locked up, they were a couple of petty thugs who robbed 7-11's and liquor stores. How they made it to Manny's personal hit squad was a mystery.

Then again, it wasn't that hard to figure out. They were big, scary looking, but most importantly, dumb as fuck. They were so dumb that they didn't even have to brains to be afraid of how royally fucked they were.

When the Sánchez's come for the king, they usually clear the entire chess board. Queens, knights, pawns; all of them. If the two henchmen knew what type of hellfire was coming for them, they'd have the same anxious look in their eyes that Manny had.

In an offhanded sort of way, Rick casually asked, "Where's Donnie?"

The two henchmen glanced at Manny with "oh shit" eyes. Rick, reading the room, had a curious look that turned disbelieving when his question practically answered itself.

"Holy fuck! You're kidding!" He exclaimed. "Tell me you didn't do something as stupid and messy as kill your own cousin!"

The guilty silence made him dramatically pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh. Of course, he killed Donnie! As Manny's lieutenant, he'd be the logical scapegoat. And we all know that scapegoats are the first to get sacrificed for the greater good. In the drug game, that sacrifice is often literal.

"At least tell me you're ABSOLUTELY certain he was the one robbing you. Tell me he gave you some valuable information about where you can find your product. And for God's sake, tell me you didn't do the whole batting cage thing."

More blinking, wide-eyed stares.

For fuck's sake...

"How have you idiots managed to survive without me?" he asked rhetorically, amused by his own question.

Manny needed to shut Rick up. Sporty and Scary Spice looked like they were ready to sing like a teen pop group, and this know-it-all routine was fishy. For a guy who wasn't interested in getting back into the game, he certainly had a lot of intimate knowledge.

With narrowed eyes, Manny said, "Open your shirt."

This only made Rick chuckle. "What, you think I'm wearing a wire?"

By now, Mo and Tuck were starting to catch on. Looking on with hard, wary eyes they too pulled out their guns and pointed them in Rick's direction.

Without even a hint of a smile on his face, Manny repeated, "Open it."

The tension in the room was thick. Each second that ticked by only added to it. A twitch of a finger, a cough, or even a sneeze could cause the direction of the night to take a deadly turn.

Rick looked at the three of them for a moment with an offended glare. "I don't snitch. You, of all people know that."

Manny's only movement was a small smirk and an unconvinced huff. His aim remained true, as did his henchmen's.

Nodding his head in resignation, Rick started to loosen each button on his shirt. When it was open, he spread it further to show his bare chest.

"Happy?"

Manny shook his head.

Rick groaned like he was annoyed, but he knew he had to comply. Instead of letting it annoy him, he decided to have a little fun with them. He took his shirt off comedically, like he was on a stage in a strip club. He helicoptered it over his head and threw it to the ground.

Even humor didn't crack the tension. Manny remained deadly serious. His countenance right now was pure venom. If necessary, he was ready to end a second life in the span of two days.

Nodding his head at the henchmen and said, "Pat him down."

They put their guns away and warily approached Rick. He didn't even resist. He simply spread his arms and stood there looking at Manny as he was searched. When they were done, Tucker said, "He's clean."

Shaking his head, Rick sarcastically asked, "Did that turn you fellas on? You guys sure you don't want the full Monty?"

Finally, Manny lowered his gun. His paranoia wasn't ready put it away though. He just held it in his hand. Aloud, he asked, "So, did you come all the way out here to see the old hangout spot, or did you actually want something?"

Rick huffed an angry snort. With an evil look on his face, he admitted, "I actually wanted to beat you to death for that little stunt you pulled with my wife yesterday. But you didn't come alone like I asked, so..."

Finally, Manny cracked a smile mixed with a chuckle. That was the first thing from Rick he actually believed.

"Well, don't let Tuck and Mo stop you." he said invitingly.

"They aren't." Rick said, dismissing their presence. "It was actually Traci who talked me out it. She doesn't want me going back to prison for you; though I doubt there would be any cop alive that wouldn't pat me on the back for getting rid of you."

Manny couldn't help feeling a swell of nostalgia. Honestly, he missed this man. The pure audacity of Rick thinking that three men with guns weren't enough to stop him from doing what he wanted was so comical that it was impressive. Say what you will, but balls of steel demand respect.

With a look of amusement on his face, Manny tucked his gun away. As he did, he said, "You'd be surprised. Half of them are either working for me or loyal customers."

Rick could only shake his head in disgust. "Is there a such thing as a good cop?"

"I'm sure there is, but he's probably stationed somewhere in Narnia riding a unicorn and chasing a leprechaun."

The two of them actually shared a laugh; the first since this nasty business with Traci was discovered. For the briefest of moments, Rick almost forgot he hated this man. The friend that he remembered appeared in this short exchange.

Manny was like music. His funny, charismatic, and easy-going nature could get stuck in your head, even if you didn't intend on it. You could hate his guts yet be singing his tune for hours.

Rick's scowl of distain softened towards Manny. In a completely honest and transparent voice, Rick said, "I need to get you out of my life for good."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, you were my best friend, Manny. Honestly, I don't think anyone besides Traci will ever get as close to me as you have."

Manny nodded in agreement. He felt the same way.

"But..." Rick continued with a sigh of regret. "You don't understand how toxic you are to the people around you. Look at how you treat the guys who let you in close! You fucked my wife when I was locked up, you threatened her to get her to do what you wanted; you even killed Donnie! Truthfully bruh, you're not a good person."

There aren't many things that can penetrate Manny's Teflon skin. He put no regards into his feelings, nor the feelings of others. Emotions were pesky little nuisances that made men weak; and weakness was the enemy.

However, coming from Rick, that shit hurt. More than it should have.

Manny's mouth once again twisted into his evil smirk. Addressing the other two in the room, Manny said, "Lookie here, boys! We're in for a treat today. We have Pastor Derrick Morrison, here to teach us how to be better people!"

The other two snickered. Getting in on the joke, Mo asked, "Boss, isn't this the guy who held Tommy over the bridge to find out info on that new crew that was moving in on your turf?"

"Yep. The same one."

Tucker, not to be outdone, also asked, "And didn't he pistol whip Vinnie half to death and put him in the hospital for like...two weeks? I saw him limping around the other day. He ain't been the same since."

Nodding his head and chuckling, he said, "Damn, Mo! You're right! He did that too."

Everyone but Manny caught that he STILL got his henchmen confused. This time, they just let it slide. There was no sense correcting him, especially when he was in the middle of taunting.

Turning to Rick, Manny chortled and said, "Come to think of it Pastor, I don't think YOU'RE the one who should be giving us these lessons. It seems YOU'RE not a good person either."

Rick gave a small laugh and nodded his head. He'd known Manny long enough now to not let shit like this get under his skin. In a calm voice, he said, "I never said I was innocent. I never even said I was a nice guy. But at least the people who love me get love back."

"Yeah...and look what that got you."

The fire had returned to Rick's eyes, emblazoning them with anger. Manny, of all people, shouldn't have had the fucking audacity to say that!

"Tell me what needs to happen to get you the fuck out of my life for good!" Rick said, no longer hiding behind a calm demeanor.

Now we're talking! Manny thought as he closed the space between the two of them. Calm and collected Rick made him nervous. But angry Rick...that was a guy he can deal with.

In his cool, negotiating voice, he said, "That's easy. You help me find out who did this to me, help me make them suffer, and get the money I owe the Columbians. If you can do that, I'll be outta your hair. On top of that, I'll give you enough money to start all over again. No more dead-end jobs; no more living with your mother in law. You and Traci can live like you used to."

"All I'd have to do is sell my soul." Rick said, more to himself than to anyone else.

"Sell your soul? What, I'm the devil now?" Manny laughed and threw his head back. "Gaaaaawd! When did you become such a soft ass bitch? Did prison do this to you, or was it Traci? I mean, she does have some good pussy, but come on! It's not worth..."

That's all he got out. The anger in Rick's eyes was immediate. He moved so quickly that Manny didn't even have time to reach for his gun. Before he knew it, Rick had grabbed him by the shirt and slammed his back up against the wall.

When Manny got his senses back, he was able to pull his gun out. Unfortunately for him, Rick was ready for that. Using his considerable strength, he grabbed Manny by the wrist and slammed his hand against the wall behind him. He did that until the gun slipped from his fingers and clattered on the floor.

Then, he wedged his other forearm under Manny's chin, right on his throat. Once it was in place, he simply pressed forward and upward. Manny's feet were lifted from the ground until he was standing on the tips of his sneakers, choking and sputtering.

By now, Mo and Tuck had whipped out their guns and put it to the back of Rick's head. With an authoritative voice, Mo yelled out, "Let him go, Rick! Let him go right now or I swear to God we will pump you full of some hot shit!"

Rick ignored him. Right now, his eyes were on Manny. With flaring nostrils, he growled, "If you mention my wife again, you will die...TODAY. You hear me? Your little guard dogs are gonna have to shoot me to get me off you. But before I go, I'll be making sure you're going to hell with me."

Manny's airway was cut off, so he couldn't answer. The only thing coming from his mouth was unintelligible noises.

A sudden pain exploded in the back of Ricks head, making him release Manny as he tumbled to the ground. At first, he thought he was shot, but then realized that he'd just been hit the butt of a gun.

Dazed and stunned, he didn't have a chance to recover before he was pounced on by the goons. A boot hit him in the ribs, then a fist slammed into his face. He rolled over on his back and looked up just in time to see Tuck's foot stomping down on his exposed midsection.

The attacks stopped, so he was able to lay there and cough through the pain. Gingerly, he rolled onto his knees. As he spit out the blood that had pooled into his mouth, Tuck knelt down beside him, putting himself close enough to Rick to be heard even if he lowered his voice.

"You should go home, Pastor Rick. This is a grown man's business. You ain't no wolf. You're just a..."

Hubris. It's often a man's undoing. Sometimes, people make glaring errors when they are seemingly the ones in control.

Before he could finish that thought, Rick reached out and grabbed him by the shirt. Then, he pulled him in and forcefully headbutted him directly in the face. Something in his nose crunched, and there was blood everywhere as he fell back yelling out in pain.

Mo's foot was getting ready for another kick, but Rick was already on the move. He blocked the foot from ever making contact. From the lowered position that he was crouched in, everything was perfectly aligned for an excruciating shot to his now vulnerable groin area.

Mo practically folded up into himself.

That was more than enough to incapacitate him. Unfortunately, Rick was pissed. As he stood up, he swung his fist upward, blasting his chin in a brutal uppercut. Mo went sprawling backwards before falling to the ground unconscious.

Tuck looked like he was trying to get up, so Rick quickly smashed his knee into his face. The agony was so severe because of the broken nose that he too fell limply.

All of this took about 7 seconds. Denzel Washington would have been envious.

Rick stood over the bodies breathing heavily. Then he turned to Manny with death in his eyes. His clinched fists, flaring nose, and flexing muscles told a story of pain that was mere seconds from being written.

But, by now Manny had recovered. And much to Rick's surprise, he found Manny standing back and enjoying the show. A proud smile beamed from him, like he just watched his son score the winning touchdown in the championship game.

"Whoooow! There he is! That's my mother-fucking wolf right there! Goddamn! That shit was so sexy it made my dick hard!" He cheered and whooped in a raspy voice that was tender due to him being choked out.

His enthusiasm was so off-putting that it shook Rick from his rage. While Manny continued to egg him on, Rick started pacing back and forth. His trembling hands shuttered with rage.

No. This was not what he was here for. This was not who he was anymore. Manny can't bring him back to that place; to that man he used to be. If he does, he wins. Everything Rick was working for would be for nothing.

He had to get back in control.

Manny taunted Rick. "Boy! Before you started whooping that ass, I should have said..." then, using his best African accent to imitate Forest Whittaker, "...the strength of the Black Panther will now be stripped away..."

Rick blocked him out. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small picture. It was crinkled up and worn, like the years had aged it significantly.

It was a picture of Anya; the same one he'd received when he as locked up. Every time he got into a situation where he felt he would lose control; this picture would bring him back.

She was so beautiful. So pure. She needed her daddy. The Mannies of this world would eat her alive if he wasn't here to protect her.

Seemingly muttering to himself, he repeatedly chanted, "I'm in control. I'm in control."

His breathing started to become more even as his rage-temperature slowly fell. He closed his eyes and allowed the remaining bit of fury to wash away. He continued to ignore Manny, who was still in the background full of fan-boy praise.

"...and then you hit him with that uppercut like GET OVER HERE!"

Rick finally opened his eyes, looked at Manny, and coolly asked, "Do you ever shut up?"

Manny stopped celebrating, and a flash of irritation crossed his face.

Now in control of himself, Rick shook his head as he calmly walked around, careful to step over the bodies on the floor.

"Has it dawned on you yet that all this is happening to you because you're such a dick? You treat everyone around you like shit. Yeah, fear and intimidation may work for a while, but what happens when that runs out? Whoever did this to you wasn't afraid of you. Now, you're begging for help from another guy that you can't intimidate. Since you messed up and...ahem...fucked his wife, you now have to resort to bribing him with half of what he helps you recover."

Manny's hot head almost got away from him. He was preparing to say something snide but stopped. There was a subtle change in Rick's voice. Yeah, he was being a complete prick, but there was something else.

"Is this a negotiation?"

Rick simply gave him a half-smile but said nothing.

Manny nodded as if to say "Okay". Looking like he was deep in thought, he said, "Well, I was thinking more like 25%"

Rick pretended to mull it over before he said, "Seventy-five percent."

"Seventy-f...what the fuck? You can't go up!"

With a shrug, Rick answered back with, "And you can't fuck my wife. Looks like we're both breaking all the rules, eh Manchester?"

After a growl of irritation, Manny said, "Fine! After I pay the Columbians what I owe them, we'll split what's left over 50/50. Fuck! I knew that pussy was gonna cost me!"

When Manny saw the beginning embers of rage start to flash in Rick's eyes, he held up his hands in surrender and chuckled. "My bad. My bad." He said, not wanting to disrupt the tentative truce that was just made. As Rick calmed down, Manny nodded his head towards his unconscious employees and said, "You're gonna be the one explaining to Beavis and Butthead why they aren't getting paid."

Rick looked down at the sleep darlings with complete apathy and snickered. "I'm pretty sure I can persuade them."

As Rick paced around the warehouse again, Manny watched him with the smile of the Cheshire Cat. He wasn't one to get sentimental, but it was good to have his friend back. Sure, Rick hated his guts at the moment, but things can change. Putting a shit ton of money into a man's hands has a way of massaging past grievances.

Baby steps...

"How much product did you have stolen?" Rick asked with a business-like curiosity.

"About 750k."

Rick nodded, mulling it over. "What was it? Coke? Smack? Heroin? Pills?"

"All the above." Manny said proudly. "I'm an all access type of guy."

Once again Rick nodded, taking it all in. "How much was it selling for?"

"I could get about two and a half for it." he said, once again pleased with himself.

After doing the math in his head, Rick shrugged nonchalantly and started to slowly pace again. He stopped short when he saw an odd coloring on the floor. It wasn't enough to stand out to the casual eye, but to someone like Rick, it was practically a neon sign.