Yellow Brick Road (an Eazy-E Story)

TWENTY FIVE

October 1st, 1992 | 6:45pm

Eric loaded his HK, eyeing the laser beam scope though the target lens. His clips and microfiber cloths were scattered across his wooden coffee table inside of his Norwalk home. "I got something for his bitch ass!" Eric said to himself as he cocked the chamber back, aiming  the barrel of the machine gun at his living room window. His finger never touched the trigger, showing true discipline.

I had stayed over at Eric's home for a few days with him as his accountant and I were crunching Ruthless Records' numbers from their books. With our joint calculations, we found out that Jerry had been making payments to an offshore account instead of paying off fees, sample clearances and other legal payments on behalf of Ruthless Records. 

Jerry Heller has put Eric in two million dollars worth of debt. Telling Eric that news was the hardest part. I had never seen him lose his cool so quickly. But, it was understandable. He has six children to feed. Artists and employees on his payroll. Dues to pay and debts that are to be owed. Playing with Eric's money is the last thing anyone wants to do. 

Eric's accountant said that he would drop off the official receipts that Jerry kept hidden when he made the offshore transactions. Eric rushed him off of the phone quickly and continued loading his magazines. This time, it was his Glock 17. It was heavier than the last time I had broke it down. He added new upgrades to his machinery. 

"See this? This will blow his fucking head off." Eric said so calmly, as if he wasn't talking about killing the man. Holding the Glock in the air, he embraced its build and beauty and kissed the barrel. "You think I should take this with me?" He tiled his neck and looked at me hard. "I think you should put that down, baby." 

I walked over to the couch and lowered the gun from his hand. I took it myself and felt the weight of it in my palm. "What are you doing? Planning a murder?" I asked, looking at the upgrades. 

"Exactly that, baby. He wants to take two million dollars and thinks he's going to get away with it? Cool. Let's see if you can spend that money in Hell." Eric stood up straight and grabbed his HK, holding it close to his hip. "You rolling or not?" 

I had no choice but to go with him. I didn't want Jerry dead and I sure as hell didn't want Eric serving life behind bars for murder. If I could mediate this situation, that was what I was going to do. I slipped into my Air Force 1s and grabbed my white windbreaker hanging in Eric's coat closet. 

Eric slipped a black pull over hoodie over his head and grabbed his Chicago Sox snapback. He grabbed his keys off of the kitchen counter and smacked my ass as he hurried by to open the front door. "Let's go!"

Calabasas, California | 7:39pm

Jerry's white BMW that Eric bought him as a gift was parked in the driveway of his mansion. Two doors down was Eric's Playhouse. The license plate on the back of Jerry's BMW read 'RTHLSS2', matching Eric's 'RTHLSS1' custom plate. Eric grabbed his Glock from the center console of his 850i and tucked it in the front of his Guess jeans. 

"Eric, are you sure that's necessary?" I asked him before getting out of the passenger seat. He ignored me completely, slamming the driver's side of the car door. "Get out." He said. I got out and shut the passenger door. Eric strolled to the front door, banging on it with the side of his closed right fist. 

Jerry opened the door immediately, peeking his head from behind the door. "Oh, thank God it's you. I thought it was Suge's people again!" Jerry said with an exasperated sigh. "Come in. Oh, hi there Lauren. Hurry inside." Jerry motioned for us to come in with his hand. We stepped inside of his mansion, looking around the foyer as he shut the door behind us.