The Client

XI - The Lion's Den

The door squealed open into the type of dimly lit world I'd often seen in crime scene photos. A blanket of white smoke hung thick in the air, the smell of the marijuana joined by a pungent mixture of stale alcohol and rot. Several men sat on a couch to my right, huddled over a spot on the coffee table in front of them as the base thumped from the speakers in the corner.

In the back, four men stood around a circular dining table shouting at each other as they threw a pair of dice into a wooden box. After a roll, three of the men shouted expletives as the shooter retrieved a stack of cash from the box and waved it in the air. Two pistols sat at the edge of the table as casually as salt-and-pepper shakers.

"Snoop", the man in the skullcap said as he closed the front door.

Another man emerged from the open kitchen on the left. He was tall and lanky, with a long nose and dark braids that resembled those of his namesake. Eddie held his arms up as the man patted him down for weapons. I did the same, silently thanking Eddie for making me leave my pistol in the car.

"They straight," Snoop said before disappearing back into the kitchen.

"Whatcha lookin' at, white boy?" the man who'd opened the door said. My eyes had drifted to the man on the couch who'd loaded a white rock into a glass pipe and lit it up.

"Oh, nothing man." The words barely escaped the desert in my mouth.

"My man here ain't mean nothin'," Eddie said to the man, trying to alleviate the tension between us. "All we here for is some tail."

The man turned back to Eddie. "Just see that he keeps his eyes to hisself. He ain't trippin' is he?"

"He ain't trippin'," Eddie replied.

"Aight." The man looked at the roll of money still in Eddie's hand. "How much you got?"

Eddie brought the money up and began counting. As soon as it was within reach, the man snatched the entire wad from Eddie's had and started counting it himself. "We gon' need all dis, you feel me? First-timer tax." I could feel Eddie tense beside me. The man quickly dropped his hand down to the bulge in his waistband. "Or do you have some objections?"

"That's straight," Eddie replied, stretching his neck.

"We gon' need the bud too," he continued, motioning toward Eddie's pocket. "I know you got sum." Eddie pulled out the other two blunts and handed them over to the man, who held one under his nose and sniffed. Then he looked at me. "Whatcha lookin' for white boy?"

I thought he said whatcha lookin' at again and I started mumbling in my defense. When I realized what he'd actually said, I shut my mouth. Both Eddie and the man were staring at me like I was crazy, waiting for me to say something. The man looked impatient. I gritted my teeth before I replied.

"A young one. Brunette."

The man started laughing and clasped my shoulder. "I gotcha playboy. I gotcha. I got just the thing. Y'all head down to 2E and my man will take care of you. But check this out. I hear about you doin' any weird shit, shit's gonna pop off. Ya heard me?" We nodded. "Now get tha fuck outta here." He opened the door and showed us out.

Back outside, Eddie stood in front of me and looked me over. "You got this, Jack." I was sweating profusely and my eyes felt like sandpaper, but was glad at least one of us was confident about my ability to pull this off. Eddie led the way out from under the covered area where 2A was located and down the walkway that connected the remainder of the rooms.

Several women in tight miniskirts and low-cut tops watched us as we walked by. One licked her lips, exposing two gold teeth on her top row, while another grabbed my ass and made a whistling sound as we walked past. I turned to say something, but Eddie grabbed my arm and led me on. "Don't feed the chickenheads," he said like it was gospel. When we made it over to 2E, there was a man outside waiting for us. He must have gotten a message from the man in 2A, because he opened the door for me as soon as I approached.