“Look, it’s Thor again. Don’t you have Jane Foster to go fuck or somethin’, Axel?”
“Maybe after I finish with your mother. Look, I’ve got—”
“I’ll be down that way in a week. Comin’ a few days early, Axel. Is the apartment ready, man? Room for my dogs?”
“Yup. You know I got you covered. Just like I said I would.”
“Cool.”
“Question for you. Ever heard of Clyde Martin? Nickname Thunder?”
Legend drew quiet as if wracking his brain. “Naw, who’s that?”
Legend had been in prison multiple times, and the majority of those charges were linked to his nefarious activity and affiliations in the Louisville drug trade. One of the bonuses of that, he’d explained many years ago, was traveling to exotic places and meeting others in his “profession.” Besides, knowing who was who was important. Keep your friends close, your enemies closer, and your friends who become enemies, the closest.
“I don’t have time to get all into the details. I’ve got a situation I am trying to handle right now, so please don’t interrupt me and ask me any questions. Just let me speak.”
“Bet. What’s up?” He could hear the man blowing smoke.
Axel proceeded to give a very brief version of what had been happening to him, and what led up to his current circumstances. “…and now I am bein’ told their boss is Clyde Martin, out of Houston.”
“Clyde Martin?” Legend laughed in a lazy sort of way. Blew more smoke. “Nah, man… don’t know no Clyde Martin… funny name… Now, I ain’t been in the game for a minute, tryin’ to keep my nose clean as you know, but to make it that high up the ranks, if he’s what you say he is, you have to have some skin in the game. You can’t just pop up out the blue, either. You earn that position. Guy outta Houston, you say?”
“Yes. Runs the operation. Things have gotten messy.” And I’m about to clean all of this shit up…
Legend drew quiet for a spell, mulling his words. He did have an amazing memory—one of his best qualities. Somewhere in that rolodex mind of his, he had the information Axel needed. He was certain of it.
“Clyde. Thunder. Nah, there’s a… Oh, wait. You know what, man? There is this mothafucka named Cymone Louis, spelled with a ‘C’. C.Y.M.O.N.E. Black dude. Never met him, but heard about him. I bet that’s who it is. He definitely runs a big operation there and some of his product is made here in Louisville, and Columbus, Ohio, too, so it makes sense that he or some of his guys would be here from time to time. He mainly deals with Fentanyl, from my understanding. If you give me an hour or two, I can make sure for you.”
He heard the guy in the backseat coughing again, and shot his gaze to the driver. The truth was written all over his face. Busted.
“I gotta run.”
“Bet. Whatever you got goin’ on right now, handle that shit.”
“You know I will.”
Axel disconnected the call and marched back up the car.
He’d overheard the conversation, no doubt about it. Surely, he knew this was the end of the line…
“Ain’t it funny how you think you can know somebody, and you don’t know a thing about them at all? Y’all mistook me for some hillbilly idiot. Thought I just clean up blood, power-washed sidewalks after shootings and suicides from tall buildings in a single bound, and filled out papers all fuckin’ day. Let me make somethin’ crystal cock-suckin’ clear to y’all.” He dropped down on one knee and glared at the guy in the backseat, who looked passed out now, then back at the driver. “I try to be a man of my word.” He turned and spit, then narrowed his eyes on the man. “But you weren’t a man of yours. I warned you. I told you I hate liars.”
“Man, you got it all wrong!”
“I have a disgust for folks that look me dead in the eye and tell a big ass tale, just like you’ve done tonight, even though your life was on the line. You know what type of motherfucker I am by now. Now when have any of y’all came here and I played with you? Notta once. My time is too precious for this. Y’all are getting on my fucking nerves. You gambled and lost.”
“I didn’t lie, man… I didn’t lie!!! I got kids, man! Come on!”
“And my mama has an only son. My employees a boss. I’m key to their livelihood, and most of them got kids, too, that they need to raise and take care of, but you didn’t care nothin’ ’bout that. I am a brother to my friends. My sister’s only brother. My nephew’s favorite uncle. I am the mate, the partner of a woman you could only dream of. I guarantee you if I was gone from her life on account of you, she’d cry a river, and I’d do the same for her, so don’t talk to me about having any compassion! I’m finished with emotional charity work. I’m doing the Lord’s work, and those children of yours a service, you rotten bastard, because their father is a horrible piece of chicken shit!”