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“We’re not giving him a pass. Sometimes you have to be a spider instead of a grizzly bear. One kills with cunning and the other, brute force. The outcome is the same. You have to think about which approach will serve you better.”
Tre nodded, but it was obvious he only wanted to be the grizzly.
They didn’t have to wait long. About thirty minutes later, half a dozen men filed out the door and down the steps on the porch. They piled into an old blue Delta 88. Bennie was among them.
Brick and Tre followed at a discreet distance as they drove to a dive bar down the street.
Bennie made a mistake in choosing his destination. Brick knew the guy who owned the place, and after a quick phone call, he and Tre slipped in the back door.
“So why is it okay to go after Bennie now when it wasn’t before? He still has his crew with him.” Tre’s voice was like nails on a chalkboard.
How many times had he learned lessons the hard way? Tre had no idea how lucky he was to have someone show him the ropes. “The difference is now we can see what we’re dealing with. In the apartment, there were too many unknowns. Now we know how many men he’s got with him. We can see where they are, and the only place they’ll be watching for us is the front door.”
Proving his point, one of Bennie’s guys headed their way, wandering alone to the bathroom. Even in such a small space, the guy had to weave through two dozen people to make his way back.
Brick grabbed him from behind and covered his mouth before he could make a sound. “You looking for trouble from me?” He used his stone-cold-killer voice.
The thin man shook his head emphatically.
“Hand my associate your phone and I’ll let you wait this out in the storage room. Do something stupid, and I’ll break something you’re attached to.”
The man’s hands shook as he handed his phone to Tre.
“Pat him down for a weapon.”
Tre did as Brick commanded and came up with a switchblade the size of his hand. Grinning, Tre shoved the knife into the pocket of his jacket. “You carrying anything else?” he sneered.
Again, the man shook his head, more frantically than ever.
He let the guy go. “In the closet. This shit goes south, I’ll kill you first.”
“Won’t his friends come looking for him?” Tre lived to challenge him.
Rolling his eyes, he shrugged. “Maybe. Or they might think he bailed. If anyone gets curious, they’ll come alone, and they’ll end up in the closet too.”
Sure enough, it happened twice more, which left Bennie with only two buddies next to him at the bar. Good enough odds for Brick to make his move. Judging by the expression on Bennie’s face, he’d already reached the same conclusion on his own.
One of the guys with him flat out ran away as he stepped into the open. Bennie’s other friend stood his ground, trying to seem tough. He failed.
Brick stared down the man with a diamond earring and fat dreds standing next to his quarry. “Is this the ditch you wanna die in?”
Blinking rapidly, the guy didn’t even glance at Bennie before hightailing it out the front door.
Bennie dropped to his knees. Sweat dotted the skin above his quivering lip. “I was about to come see you, Brick, I swear.”
“Don’t talk to me, Bennie. Talk to Tre.”
As Bennie turned to plead his case, Tre didn’t wait for any words. He lifted his knee and kicked him square in the face. Then, when Bennie tried to roll up into a ball, Tre kicked him over and over and over again. “You think you can run from me, motherfucker?” Kick. “You think you can hide behind your friends?” Kick. “You spread the message Tre Lowry don’t play.”
Bennie whimpered at the brutal kick Tre delivered next but then fell silent and still. So did everyone else in the bar. They waited and watched to see what Tre would do next. So did Brick.
Tre was a loose cannon, as likely to kill Bennie as ask about the money he owed. At some point, though, the guy had to show what he was made of. Brick couldn’t keep reminding him what was important.
With his shiny red leather coat, Tre was the loudest thing in the dark, dank room—the star of the show—and he wasn’t finished with his performance. With the showmanship of a circus ringmaster, he unbuckled his pants and whipped out his dick.
Then pissed all over poor Bennie.
The guy lay there, soaked in blood and urine. Brick couldn’t tell if the poor bastard was dead or alive.
