“Nothing like that. Do your research,” she stated and patted me on the shoulder.
I watched as she turned and walked out of the restroom. I stared at the invitation in my hand, which seemed to grow warm and sparkle.
Shit. I’d had too much to drink. It was time to take my drunk ass home.
Chapter 3
Bryson “Bryse” Fuller
“Dom, I don’t suggest that you do shit to make him disappear. Right now, all eyes are on you, and they’re going to be watching your every move, phone call, visit, and interaction you have with anyone. They’ve got eyes on everything that you do.”
“Do you think that I’m stupid enough to use my phone, get caught, or any of that shit? Besides, it’s not like I’ll be the one eliminating the problem. I have men for that.”
“I thought you were the man for that.”
“I am—for other people. But when I need someone to take care of my problems, I hire someone to do that shit for me. I didn’t get to where I am by being an idiot, Fuller.” His eyes seemed to glow in the dark confines of the cabin.
We were rolling down the highway in the back of his Bentley, and the windows were tinted. No one knew that I was inside this car, because he had requested that I meet him at an undisclosed location.
The entire drive to meet up with Dominic Gerard, I was given directions via a phone call and never provided with an addressin advance. When I arrived at the abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town, both my car and I were thoroughly searched.
That was nothing new to me. I was used to working with the criminal underworld in Cherokee Springs. I even had the Immortal Descendents as clients when their primary lawyer could not come through for them.
God forbid that anything should happen to me, and no one knew where I was or who I was with. I had told my girlfriend, Kennedi, that I had an after-hours meeting with a new client, but I had given her no details. She had come to expect that from me, and she never questioned it. Hell, I could be cheating on her, and she wouldn’t know the difference. But I was a loyal man, if not a man of integrity.
I had been known to do some shady shit to get my clients off, and I wasn’t above breaking the same law that I vowed to uphold. While many celebrities like Chris Perry, Chablis, Solemn, Jamarian Strong, and Nastasia were on my roster, it was clients like Dominic Gerard who were my bread and butter. They needed me more often than the celebrities, but like the celebrities, they kept me on retainer.
I returned my attention to the man who sat on the bench seat opposite me. “I do what I do because I’m good at it. I charge what I charge because everyone can’t afford me, and I’m willing to do shit that other lawyers aren’t. I risk my license every time I take on a client like you. That’s not a judgment, believe me, but it’s letting you know that you hired me because someone told you that I was worth it.”
“They did,” he replied with a nod.
“Then trust what the fuck I say. If I say that you don’t get rid of anyone, then muthafucka, you don’t get rid of anyone. You can respect my word and roll with what I say, or fire my ass right now, and I can roll.”
The big, dark-skinned man whose pupils and teeth were the only clear visuals that I had of him aside from the thick gold ropes around his neck, sighed. “A’ight. So, what’s your plan?”
“It’s for you to chill out and trust me to do my job. This will not go to trial, and I promise you that you will not be guilty on all accounts.”
He sighed heavily again, and I knew that it was taking a huge leap of faith to trust me. We had met on a few occasions, but he had been recommended to me by another client who had been loyal for the last six years. He had a reputation in the underworld society for getting shit done and walking away with clean hands. He held secrets close to his chest, and he trusted no one, not even his lawyer. That would be fine for a while, but not for long.
“All right. Now, is there anything that I can do for you?”
“I need to know that I can trust you.”
“Of course you can,” he replied with a shrug.
“Nah. I need to know it, big homie. The same as you trust me with attorney-client privilege, I need it back.”
“You got it. What’s up?”
“I believe my girl is cheating. I need someone to find out for sure, and if she is, I need the problem eliminated. Not my girl.”
“Say no more. Take her to dinner tomorrow at eight at The Ebony Candle. I’ll roll by, and I’ll make sure that I get a good visual of her.”
I nodded as the car rolled to a stop. “We’re here,” he announced.
We climbed out of the car and rolled into Tasty Temptations, a strip club. It wasn’t long before we found seats, ordered drinks and appetizers, and were seated. We watched the women dance while we smoked cigars and chatted about nothing at all.
“Would you like a dance, sexy?” a young brown-skinned woman with long braids asked. Her braids hung to her ankles, and she wore a gold thong, a matching bralette, and heels.
