Animal 2 Read online

  “Mobi was what you would call a man without honor,” Priest continued. “Because of his family’s political status, he felt like he was entitled to whatever he wanted, and what he wanted was what belonged to Poppa Clark. So we went to war. We immediately saw what kind of man we were dealing with when Mobi went to Poppa Clark’s favorite little bakery and killed the baker and his wife because they refused to poison Poppa Clark’s morning coffee. Nothing was off-limits to him, including family. I had to protect you at all costs.”

  Animal could vaguely remember flashes of him and his mother always living in different places. She would tell him it was because his father was in the military and his job required them to move around, but none of the apartments was ever outside the five boroughs.

  “I tried to kick the real deal to your mom, but she was too caught up in the lifestyle to hear what I was saying, so I had no choice but to put some distance between us. For as much as it hurt me to be away from my son, I couldn’t run the risk of Mobi finding out about my family and paying y’all a visit. The only sure way to keep you out of harm’s way was to kill Mobi.”

  “Judging from the fact that you’re here telling me this story, I’m gonna assume you succeeded in killing Mobi. So what stopped you from coming back for us when he was dead?” Animal wanted to know.

  Priest hesitated before answering so that he could check the address he had written on a slip of paper against the dilapidated bar they’d just pulled up in front of. When he confirmed he was at the right location, he killed the engine, but he didn’t get out of the car yet. There was still much to be said between him and Animal, and he needed to get it off his chest as much as his son needed to hear it.

  “The feud between Mobi’s crew and the Clarks went on for longer than any of us expected. It took me almost three years to finally corner him and kill him, and that came at a price. His uncle was a heavyweight in Africa. He was connected politically and had a strong hand in the streets, which made him twice as dangerous. When he found out that it was me who put the love on his nephew, he demanded compensation. Back then, the Clark family didn’t have the political connections they have now, and Mobi’s uncle would’ve crushed us like bugs. Still, Poppa Clark was my friend, and he refused to turn me over. He was ready to kick off a war that we had no chance of winning to protect me. Mobi’s uncle saw this, and it gave him a newfound respect for the Clarks, so he offered a compromise.”

  “Which was?” Animal asked in a very interested tone.

  “I was put on loan in the service of Mobi’s uncle to take out one of his rivals in Africa. To settle the blood debt over Mobi’s life, he demanded the life of his enemy and the lives of the enemy’s family,” Priest explained. “It went against my beliefs, when I still believed in anything, but I didn’t have much of a choice. The children I gave quick deaths. With each dimming of their young lights, my soul became darker, more stained. I took my self-hate out on their parents and killed them in the messiest ways I could think of. I slaughtered everyone in the house, except the slave girl. She wasn’t of their blood. When Mobi’s uncle released me from his service and I was allowed to leave, I brought her with me.”

  “Kahllah,” Animal said, putting the pieces together in his head.

  “Yes, my little Black Lotus. It’s funny how I saved her from a life of servitude and she saved me from myself.” Priest chuckled. “After the things I’d seen and done in Africa, I wasn’t the same person Poppa Clark had put on that plane. Everywhere I looked, I saw the faces of the children I’d murdered, and it drove me mad. I retreated into the furthest corners of my mind and had no desire to leave, but Kahllah refused to let me slip away. Even when I was at my lowest point, Kahllah never left my side.”

  “And what of us?” Animal asked, trying to keep his emotions in check. Listening to the pain in Priest’s voice as he told the story was getting to him.

  Priest blinked, and when he opened his eye it was moist. “By the time I got myself together, Marie was a washed-up base head, and the streets had you. My little boy was gone, and you were the Animal.”

  For a long while, Animal said nothing. He just sat in the passenger seat, weighing everything. Animal didn’t know Priest very well, but he was an expert on the hearts of men, and there was too much genuine pain in Priest’s voice for it to have been a lie. In a few short hours, the man claiming to be his father had told him more about his origins than his mother had in all the time he was with her. He felt like a weight had been lifted as some of the blanks in his life had finally been filled in, but the bitterness of being abandoned and abused remained.

  “So what now? Are we supposed to go toss a football in the park or some shit? I can respect the position you were put in, especially being in a similar situation. I’d do everything I could to protect someone I love, even if it meant letting them go.” He thought of Gucci and the constant danger she was in by being with him. “Sacrifice is sometimes a necessary evil, but that still doesn’t absolve you from abandoning your responsibilities.”

  Priest turned to face Animal. “You still don’t get it, do you? This isn’t about absolution. I’ll be judged by a much higher authority than you or anyone else. I don’t expect you to forgive me; I just want you to understand.”

  Animal nodded. “One thing I still don’t get is if you’re so loyal to the Clarks, then why help me? And don’t feed me that family shit, because we hardly know each other. What’s your angle?”

  “Poppa Clark is one of my oldest and dearest friends. I watched him bust his ass for decades trying to create the American dream for his kids, only to have his youngest offshoot piss it all to hell with his Hollywood shit. Shai is a good kid, but I’m not a fan of the way he’s running his father’s empire. Maybe a good pat on the ass is what he needs to get his head back in the game and get you out of the fire all at the same time. If we play this right, then everybody walks away with what they want. Shai gets a wake-up call, the feud is ended, and I can die knowing I helped my son when he truly needed me.”

  “Shai hates my guts, and I hate his. The only way he’s gonna ever truly let go of the grudge is if one of us is dead,” Animal said.

  “Animal, death is the most effective resolution to most problems but not always the only resolution. Pay attention, and you just might learn something from your old man before it’s all said and done.” Priest got out of the car.

  SEVEN

  “I THOUGHT YOU SAID WE were going to a funeral,” Animal said, once they crossed the threshold of the tavern. It was a cramped little bar that smelled of musk and alcohol.

  “We are,” Priest said, scanning the room. He spotted the man he was looking for, hunched over the bar, nursing a glass of something brown. “Follow me, and say nothing unless I tell you to,” Priest told Animal, before making his way to the bar.

  The man nursing the drink must’ve felt Priest approaching, because he looked up from his glass. He was a light-skinned man who looked to be about fifty, with a balding head. His eyes were beet-red, but the dried tears on his face said it wasn’t from the alcohol. He had been crying.

  “Ain’t you afraid you might burst into flames coming in this hellhole, Father?” the old man said over his shoulder.

  “I go wherever the word needs to be heard.” Priest invited himself to the stool next to the old man. “How are you, Charlie?”

  “Not too good,” Charlie said, tossing the drink back and motioning for the bartender to bring him another one. “I buried my wife this morning.”

  “I heard. You have my condolences. Nancy was a good woman,” Priest said sincerely.

  “Too good for a wretch like me,” Charlie said. “You know, she could’ve had any guy in the world, but she chose me. I always asked God what made me such a lucky bastard.”

  “Sometimes it’s senseless to question his will. Everything the most high does, he does for a reason, and the reasons aren’t always for us to understand,” Priest said, watching Charlie take the fresh shot down.

  “Wou
ld’ve been nice if you could’ve been there to say a few words,” Charlie said. “I know you take that collar about as seriously as I take my liver, but it still would’ve been good for show, huh? Nancy never did give up hope that you’d find your way again one day.”

  “I wish I had half the faith in myself as Nancy had in me.” Priest raised his hand and motioned for the bartender to bring them three more shots of whatever Charlie was drinking. When she set them down, he slid one to Charlie and one to Animal and kept one. Animal stared down at the glass quizzically.

  “Who’s this, your new altar boy?” Charlie asked Priest.

  “No, this is my son,” Priest said.

  Charlie turned around on his stool and gave Animal the once-over. “I ain’t seen him since he was knee-high. Where you been hiding him, Priest?”

  “We’re estranged,” Animal answered for him.

  Charlie laughed. “He abandoned you, too, huh? Yeah, Priest is good at walking away from shit. Cold-blooded, that one is.”

  “Compassion is only a friend to a fool. When people find places in your heart, they use them to their advantage.” Priest raised his glass.

  “Touché, nigga.” Charlie threw his shot back. Priest sipped his. “Never known you to be much of a drinker,” he said to Priest.

  “I’m not, but I make allowances for special occasions.” Priest took another sip.

  “A special occasion, huh?” Charlie asked suspiciously.

  “Yes, a home-going ceremony.” Priest threw the rest of his shot back. “You ready to go, Charlie?”

  Charlie stared at the empty glass. “How long we known each other, Priest?” He never took his eyes off the glass.

  Priest thought on it. “Maybe thirty years now.”

  “Thirty-two years,” Charlie corrected him. “I remember the day you got out of boot camp and they tossed you into our unit. You looked scared to death, but the minute we got out there in the combat zone, you took to it like a fish to water. Even back then, we all knew that you were BTK. Do you know what BTK is, youngster?” he asked Animal.

  “No, sir,” Animal said.

  “BTK is a phrase we used in our platoon. When you enlist, you do so knowing that there’s a possibility that you might actually see some action. None of us really wanted to be out there, but we did what we had to do in the name of survival. Then you had the BTKs. Those are the ones who can be knee-deep in a blood bath and don’t bat an eye. They thrived on the violence. These men were said to have come into the world without souls. We classified those wack jobs as BTK, born to kill.”

  Animal listened to Charlie’s tale, and it reminded him of how he’d handled business when he was on the streets putting in work. He never showed fear or remorse; he moved like a man without a soul, BTK. He wondered if he was that way because of the circumstances he was placed in, or was it something he’d inherited from the father he’d never known?

  “For as much as we’d like to hear some more of your war stories, Charlie, we’ve got a schedule to keep.” Priest tapped his watch.

  “Yeah, I know,” Charlie said sadly. “Think we got time for one more?”

  Priest nodded and motioned for the waitress to bring them one last round. When she set the drinks on the table, Priest picked up the tab for the drinks he’d ordered plus all the booze Charlie had consumed before he got there.

  Charlie smiled. “A gentleman to the end.” He threw the shot back and slammed the glass onto the table. Charlie removed his watch, his pinkie ring, and the gold crucifix hanging around his neck and placed them on the bar. “Hold on to these for me for a spell, darling. I’ll come back for them later,” he told the bartender.

  The bartender looked from the jewelry on the bar to Charlie and his two companions. “Is everything OK?” she asked, ready to pull out the shotgun hidden under the bar or alert the police if need be. Charlie was one of her regulars, and she liked him, but she didn’t care for the two strangers. From the moment they arrived, she knew they were bad business. She could smell the stench of death clinging to them from a mile away.

  Charlie gave her a wink. “Everything is jus’ groovy, baby.” He rapped his knuckles on the bar. “All right.” He turned to Priest. “Let’s get this fucking show on the road.”

  • • •

  Priest told Animal to get behind the wheel, while Charlie sat in the passenger’s seat and Priest got into the back directly behind him. He directed Animal out of town and down a seldom-used dirt road. The tension in the car was so thick you could’ve cut it with a knife. Charlie made small talk with Animal about shit that either didn’t matter or had happened long before Animal was born, anything to keep his mind off the man sitting behind him and their destination.

  Animal started to ask what was going on but thought better of it. He looked up into the rearview mirror at Priest, who was staring back at him. Gone was the face of the man who had schooled him in his history and traded war stories with an old friend, replaced by the face of the hardened killer he was best known as.

  “Pull over up here,” Priest said from the backseat. Animal steered the car into the stand of trees Priest had directed him to. “Everybody out,” Priest ordered, slipping from the backseat. Animal got out, but Charlie remained seated. He looked so terrified that Animal doubted he could move even if he wanted to. “Let’s go, Charlie.” Priest opened the door for him.

  “I’m coming, man. Just let me get myself together.” Charlie wiped the sweat from his brow with his hand. When he tried to stand, his legs gave out. Animal caught him before he could fall. “Thanks, youngster. I must’ve had too much to drink.” Charlie mustered a phony smile.

  “You never did have the head for liquor, or anything else, for that matter, Charlie. I hate the fact that you’ve put me in this position,” Priest told him, pulling a pistol from his jacket.

  “Priest, I know you salty, but we got history. It ain’t gotta be like this. Just let me walk away, and I’ll vanish. On my dead wife, you’ll never see me again,” Charlie pleaded.

  “You know I can’t do that, Charlie. The only reason I’ve waited so long to come for you was out of respect for Nancy, but she’s not here anymore,” Priest said.

  “You want me to beg? OK.” Charlie dropped to his knees. Tears began rolling down his cheeks. “I’m begging you, don’t do me like this!”

  Seeing Charlie on his knees groveling turned Priest’s stomach. “Get the fuck up.” He snatched Charlie to his feet by the front of his shirt. Charlie kept trying to collapse, but Priest wouldn’t let him. “What are you doing, Charlie? Have some fucking dignity!” Priest shook him.

  Animal placed a firm hand on Priest’s shoulder. “Why don’t you take it easy?”

  Priest looked at Animal’s hand as if it was something that had crawled up from the foulest gutter. “Why don’t you get yo fucking hand off me before it becomes another trophy in my war room?”

  “Thanks, youngster, but don’t waste your breath,” Charlie said. “Once the Clark executioner has been sent for you, there’s only one outcome, even if it is the God Father to his only son. Ain’t that right, Priest?”

  Priest said nothing.

  Charlie patted Animal on the cheek. “Son, unlike your daddy, you’ve got a heart of gold. You care about people. Hold on to that quality, youngster. The heart is the last line of defense when those demons come scratching at our souls.”

  Priest called to him. “Charlie.”

  “Keep your robe on, holy man. I’m coming,” Charlie said. He turned back to Animal, and there were tears dancing in his eyes. Charlie pounded Animal’s chest lightly with his fist. “No matter how many guns you got, nothing is more powerful than your heart and standing behind what you believe in versus what somebody is trying to feed you. You remember what I told you and the circumstances they were told under. You hear me?”

  Animal nodded.

  Charlie turned to face Priest. “I fucked up, didn’t I?”

  “You sure did, Charlie.” Priest screwed a silencer on
the gun.

  “So this is what’s it’s come to? Three decades of friendship thrown out like yesterday’s trash to make sure the faithful old hound dog doesn’t fall out of his master’s good graces?”

  Priest didn’t take the bait.

  “I understand you’re just doing like you’re told, Priest, but you might wanna think about it. I’m still a made guy,” Charlie reminded him. He had been a major player in the underworld during his days, and at one time, Charlie’s name held weight.

  “Charlie, this ain’t the nineties. Your power on the streets dried up a long time ago. Poppa Clark was throwing you a bone when he gave you this town to run. You remain a boss in name only,” Priest said.

  “Call it what you want, but there are still quite a few people who got love for old Charlie. I might be old and washed up, but my son Chuck’s still got a strong hand out here. When he finds out what you did to his daddy on the day we laid his mama to rest, he’s gonna come for you to settle this debt,” Charlie warned.

  Chuck was Charlie’s only son. Priest had watched him grow from a mischievous young man into a solid soldier, who was known to bust his gun. Charlie was the boss of the operation, but Chuck and his goons were the muscle.

  “Chuck is a good young kid, and if he wants to live to be a good old man, he’ll chalk this one up to the game and keep it moving. If he does get it in his head to come around looking for death, I’ll be sure to help him find it. This I can promise you,” Priest said. “You have no one to blame for this but yourself, Charlie. I connected you so that you could do for you and your family, not run off like a common thief and make me look like a poor judge of character.”

  Charlie shook his head. “Is that what they told you? That I ran off with the money? Figures, white men been lying on niggers for years. Priest, you know me. I ain’t never stole nothing from nobody that didn’t have it coming. I got tired of them Irish muthafuckas coming around here acting like they owned the joint, acting like they owned me. I took that bread to show them what time it was. It wasn’t about the money, it was about my pride!”