“This is Tammy with Fortress Security Group. Is this Huey Sapien?” the operator asked.
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“You are listed on the call list. The police have been dispatched to 1114 Sentinel Avenue due to a hold up alarm being triggered at Sapien Surplus Sales. We called the premises and did not receive an answer.”
Lifting his wrist, Heavy checked the time and saw that it was a little after 10:00 p.m. The shop closed at 9:30, but his grandfather sometimes worked late.
“Okay. I’ll swing by and check on it too. Thanks for the call.” Heavy jumped to his feet, knocking Prischa off him in the process.
“What’s wrong?”
“I gotta go check on something.” He fished his keys from his pocket. “Viggo, ride with me.”
“Nigga, I was just about to get me a lap dance.”
“Let’s go,” Heavy urged in a controlled voice.
Once they stepped into the gloomy, gray, clouded night, Heavy led the way to his whip. Viggo was a little tipsy, so he could barely keep up, but Heavy had a gut feeling that something wasn’t right.
“Where we going?” Viggo pulled the door open when Heavy unlocked the car.
“The alarm went off at one of the shops.” Heavy climbed in, and Viggo settled beside him in the passenger seat.
“Which one?”
“Horace’s shop.” Heavy started the car, and Viggo searched for his cell in his pocket to call his grandfather.
When his mama, Heavy’s auntie, and their grandpa’s only daughter passed away, Viggo was brought in and raised right alongside Heavy and Henna. The three of them used to joke that they were cousin/siblings because of this. Not one of them was treated different than the other. Viggo was particularly close to his grandfather, though, and worshipped the ground he walked on. If something were to happen to him, he wasn’t sure he could take it.
“He ain’t answer his cell.” Viggo cut his eyes across the seat as Heavy backed out of their parking space.
The normally fifteen-minute trip across town turned into about seven, and his heart damn near stopped when he hit the corner and saw all the flashing cherry lights.
“The fuck,” Viggo muttered, immediately shoving his car door open.
Heavy looked for somewhere to park while his cousin took off up the block. Locating a spot on the corner, he didn’t give a damn if he got a ticket. He shut his car off and hopped out, doing a light jog until he reached their business.
“Pops!” Viggo screamed, weakening Heavy’s knees.
The tired squeak from the wheels of the gurney pushing him out of the store locked Heavy in place. Horace Sapien was beaten black and blue. Blood drenched his skin and clothes. Holding his hand and walking beside the stretcher with the paramedics, Viggo leaned toward his face.
“How the fuck this happen? What happened?” Viggo pleaded.
“We have to get him to the hospital now!” one of the paramedics announced.
“Fuck that! I’m going with you!” Viggo barked back. “Heav?—”
“I’ll meet you there, V.” Heavy watched them load up into the ambulance before the driver hit the sirens and wheeled them down the street.
“Mr. Sapien?” a detective emerged from inside.
He was early fifties, bald head, thick beard and goatee. Piercing eyes that resembled coal fixated on Heavy, taking note of his expensive chain and watch.
“The fuck happened here?” Heavy demanded.
“Your grandfather took a pretty bad beating. Paramedics said it didn’t look good. Oddly enough, nothing seems to have been taken. You have any idea who would want to hurt him?” He was questioning him like he was a suspect.
“Nah.” Heavy shook his head, rage coursing through his veins.
