“Why are the mothers of all of your bastards thirty years younger than me?” Reecie said this and then looked at her husband through her mirror.
William didn’t respond. He couldn’t.
She nodded her head and continued applying her makeup. “I need it,” she said.
CHAPTER FOUR
The next morning Hawk flung his Corvette into the parking space that simply read Chairman. Then he sat there staring up at the hugeEAGLE RECORDSsign high above his massive building that housed not only his corporate offices, but over fifty worldclass studios for his recording artists. It was the accomplishment of his life. He felt accomplished. But alone too. He had nobody to share it with. It was beginning to bother him more than just a cursory thought every now and then.
But what could he do about it? Settle for just anybody? He wasn’t going to do that. He’d rather be lonely than stuck in a bad relationship the way his mother was. So he buried those thoughts deep down inside of him the way he did every morning, got out of his car, and went inside his building.
The entire building was pin-drop quiet. It was barely five a.m.
But he wasn’t inside his massive lobby two seconds before he heard what he thought was a firecracker going off. But he quickly realized it wasn’t fireworks at all, but a hail of gunshots ringing out from outside of the building. Then the huge front window shattered behind him as Hawk hit the floor face first.
Lobby Security was running up front from their back booth, hurrying to the boss’s aid, but Hawk was pulling out the loaded gun he always carried on his person. He was turning onto his back just as what looked like some young, long-haired meth-head came running into the building with his gun drawn too: ready to fire more shots.
Hawk had both hands on his Glock nervously and was holding it as steady as he could, although his heart was pounding. But he was ready to empty every round in his chamber straight through the heart of that young man’s skinny frame as if he was target practice. Which would break Hawk’s heart. He did not condone violence of any kind. But if it came down to him or that young man, as it was absolutely down to in that moment, it wasn’t going to be him.
But Lobby Security fired before Hawk could cock his piece, and they took the young man down.
Some of the guards ran to the young man, to make certain the threat was neutralized, while a couple of the guards, including Bob Lassiter, the lead guard that everybody called Lassie, ran to Hawk.
“You okay, Boss?” the younger guard asked frantically as they both began helping him to his feet.
“I’m okay,” Hawk responded, although that kid had terrified him to such an extent that his heart was still pounding as if it was going to pound right out of his chest. He and the guards looked over at the young white kid’s lifeless body to see if they recognized him. Hawk had never seen him before.
But Lassie had. “Never thought the kid would do something like this,” he said.
Hawk looked at him. “You know him?”
“I’ve seen him around, yes sir.”
“Who is he?”
“He’s with that group called Blood.”
Hawk frowned. “The Bloods?”
“No sir. Just Blood. They were a new boy band Mr. Dobson gave a trial run to about four or five months ago. He dropped them when there was so much contention between bandmates that it became an unworkable situation. Just way too much drama was what I heard happened. You probably neverseen them before because they were dropped like right away. Their name probably never got to your desk.”
“Then what the fuck he’s shooting at me for? I didn’t drop him.”
“I remembered how my online security team said he was complaining on social media about how Eagle Records dumped him and his dreams. And by virtue of the fact that you own Eagle Records, youareEagle Records in his eyes. That’s how these meth-heads think, Boss.”
Hawk shook his head. Then he tossed his keys to Lassie. “Take my car and swing it around back. Park it in my private garage. If the cops ask, I wasn’t here. I don’t want to be bothered with any of this shit.”
“Yes sir.”
“And lose the video.”
“Yes sir,” Lassie responded again, and then hurried to do as he was ordered.
But Hawk looked at the kid again. He knew that young man was somebody’s child. And it was a shame.
But it wouldn’t be the first time he was be blamed for their own insufficiencies, and he knew it wouldn’t be the last. The recording industry was a winner take all kind of game, which meant somebody always had to lose. Which meant somebody was always going to blame his company, meaninghim, for that loss.
Hawk thought about Langston Hughes as he made his way toward his private elevator:“From river to river, uptown and down. There’s liable to be confusion when a dream gets kicked around.” And Hawk knew he’d kicked thousands of dreams around in his line of work. And many up-and-comers hated him for it.
