by Tranay Adams
“Arrr!” His righteye twitched and he bit down on his inner jaw. Feeling himself about to erupt, he squeezed her cheeks tighter, seeing the indentions form around his thick fingers. He grunted, holding Chevy down on his dick and lifting his back from the bed, he released all of his babies inside of the ebony latex. “Ahhhhh, sssssshiiiiiiit! Ssssss, fuck!” He looked like he was turning into a werewolf before an expression of relief crossed his face. Chevy caught her nut right after him.
“Sssssss, goddamn, I could fucking bite chu.” She crawled upon him, biting gently on his peck and neck. Her hot wet tongue glided up his neck and she sucked on his throat before sliding over to his ear lobe. She nibbled on his earlobe a little before pulling back and lying her head on his chest, his hand sliding up and down his rock hard abs.
She then snuggled up against him, closing her eyes wearing an appeased expression. He held her to him with one arm and stared up at the ceiling. He’d just completed his first mission, and that was busting that welcome home nut. Now it was time to get to the main objective: the money. Tiaz closed his eyes and began to think about all of the caked up hustlers he could bring it to for the dough. It wasn’t long before he fell asleep wearing a smile on his face.
***
Tiaz’s nostrils flared as the aroma of bacon snaked its way into his nostrils. His nose twitched and his eyes fluttered as he began to stir awake from his slumber. His eyelids peeled open and he sat up in bed, rubbing away the crust that had formed in the crevasses of his eyes while he slept. He looked to the side of the bed where Chevy had slept and noticed she was gone. He put on his wifebeater and slipped on a pair of sweatpants that lay next to the bed. He stepped inside of the bathroom where he washed his face and brushed his teeth. Once he was done, he carried his hulky body into the kitchen where the scent of a delicious breakfast had brought him. When he entered the kitchen, Chevy was standing over the stove whipping up breakfast: eggs, bacon, potatoes and cinnamon toast. Te’Qui was sitting at the table patiently waiting while playing God of War III on his PSP.
Chevy turned around with a skillet of eggs. Seeing her boo brought a smile to her face. “Good morning.”
“Good morning.” Tiaz pecked her on the lips then turned to Te’Qui. “What’s up, my young nigga? I see you recovered from the butt whooping I gave you last night.” He dapped him up and sat down in the chair. Chevy went around the table filling the plates with food.
“What? Momma, you hear this dude?” Te’Qui smirked. “I was chipping you. You may wanna try finding yourself another game ‘cause Call of Duty ain’t your thang.”
“You’re right, you got me. I’ma have to go into training for our rematch. But in the meantime, how about that Marvel vs Capcom? I know you can’t see me in that.”
“That’s old school, but it don’t matter. I’ll still put hands on you.”
“Alright. I’ma go see if I can find a copy today, Mr. Get Bad.” Tiaz took a bite of cinnamon toast.
Everyone had begun eating. Te’Qui had taken a sip of orange juice and wiped his mouth with a napkin when he noticed the five AK-47 bullets tattooed on Tiaz’s forearm. “That tattoo is hard than a mug.” Te’Quiopenly admired the ink.
“Thanks.” Tiaz managed to say with a jaw swollen with food. He’d begun gathering potatoes on his fork when Te’Qui asked.
“Who laced you?”
“This Mexican fool back in prison.” Tiaz took a bite of the potatoes.
“Do they mean anything, or are they just bullets?”
“They’re five bullets, one for each year I spent in prison.”
“What did you do to end up in the pen?”
“Te’Qui, you’re asking too many questions, baby. Eat your food.” Chevy interjected.
Tiaz held his hand up at Chevy. “Nah, it’s cool. I blasted on somebody.”
“Why, what did he do? Disrespect you?”
“He hurt something I loved.”
“Do you regret shooting him?”
“Yes, but not for the reason you may think.”
“Then why?”
Tiaz wiped his mouth with a napkin before answering. “The person that I shot him over wasn’t worth the five years I spent in prison. Otherwise, I wouldn’t regret pulling those bullets.”
“Who was the person you shot someone over?” Te’Qui inquired.
“They’re not even worth mentioning.” Tiaz went on eating his breakfast.
The telephone rang and Chevy got up to answer it. Seeing who it was on the caller ID, she rolled her eyes and picked up the phone.
“What do you want, Faison?”
“Is that how you speak to the father of your child?”
“Whatever, what do you want?” She looked over her shoulder to see if Tiaz was watching her. He wasn’t. He was busy talking with her son.
“Where is my son?”
“He’s eating.”
“Well, put ‘em on the phone.”
Chevy had opened her mouth to say something when her son stopped his conversation to ask his mother a question.
“Is that dad?” Te’Qui shouted with a mouthful of food.
She nodded yes, and her baby boy’s face lit up with excitement. He drank some orange juice to wash down his food, wiped his mouth, and hopped out of his chair. He rushed over to his mother and snatched the phone from her. He then retreated to his bedroom to talk to his father in private.
Chevy was glad to see her son so happy. Even though she despised Faison, she couldn’t imagine trying to keep them away from each other.
“That was your son’s father, huh?” Tiaz inquired once Chevy sat down at the table. She’d already given him the rundown on their history. He knew exactly who he was dealing with, which is why he’d gotten the banger from Threat. If Faison thought he was gone play those games with him that he was playing with the mother of his child, then he had another thing coming: a barrel full of some hollow tips to be exact.
“Yep, that was him.” Chevy took a sip of orange juice.
“Look, Chevy, I’m not up for games, so if homes come over here tryna stunt...” he trailed off. “Well, you know how I get down, baby daddy or not.” He warned her and she nodded her understanding.
At that moment a horn was blown, Tiaz walked over to the curtains and peered outside. Through the window he spotted Threat in the driveway. He motioned for his comrade to come outside. Tiaz held up a finger and headed for the bedroom. He stuck his feet into a pair of white Air Force Ones and threw on a hefty leather jacket. He retrieved the banger Threat had given him from the black box and stashed it inside of his jacket.
“Who was that?” Chevy asked him when he returned to the living room.
“Threat. I’ll be right back.”
Tiaz came out of the house and jogged over to the passenger side of his homeboy’s whip. Threat turned down the music when Tiaz leaned down into the window. “What’s upper?”
“Hop in.” Threat hit the switch that unlocked the door and Tiaz hoppedinto the front passenger seat. “We’re about to take a lil’ ride.” He backed out into the residential block and pulled off, filling Tiaz in on the caper he’d come up on. “I came upon a pretty sweet lick.”
“Who is it? And what’re they holding?”
“Majestic,” Threat told him.
“So is this cat holding a big bag?”
“From what I gather, he’s holding one of the biggest. We’re rolling through here to see this cat that put me on to ‘em. He knows more than what I do.”
Threat pulled into the Slauson Super mall and parked six rows back from the establishment’s entrance doors. He looked over to the music installation garage and waved over the man he’d come to see.
Limb sped walked his lanky frame across the parking lot with his head on a swivel as he took pulls from a cigarette. He was dressed in a Forty Niners football jersey and sweatpants. Wire framed glasses accentuated his face and a doo rag covered his head.
Limb hopped into the backseat of Threat’s whip and slammed t
he door closed. “What up, my ninja?” He greeted him with a fist bump. He stole a glance at Tiaz. “Who that up there?”
“Never mind him.” Threat replied.
“I’m just saying, fam, my business is with chu. For all I know homie could be The Ones or something.” Limb reasoned.
“Fuck is you talking about?” Threat frowned, feeling disrespected, “Anybody I fuck with is official. In fact, I should pop your top for insinuating I’d even share the same air as a rat.” He turned around in his seat with his hammer grasped firmly in his mitt. The presence of a banger made Limb raise his boney hands in surrender.
“My bad, my nigga, I’m just tryna cover my ass. You can’t blame me with all of these niggaz out here turning fed.”
“That’s the only reason why I’ma let this shit die.” Threat stashed his gun away. “Throw that cigarette out. I just got my shit detailed.”
“Oh, my fault,” Limb took a quick pull and flicked the cigarette out of the window, embers flying along with it.
“Gimmie the skinny on your man.”
“Like I was telling you, the nigga clearslike a hundred K a night from all of the traps he got. He sends these two muscle head niggaz along the route to pick it all up. They be in this big ass black truck, I think it’s a Suburban or something.”
“What kind of hardware are they holding?” Threat inquired.
“Desert Eagles, I think.” Limb answered.
“Where do they take the money from there?” Tiaz spoke for the first time.
Limb shrugged. “The hell if I know. I guess to Majestic.”
“Who else have you told about this lil’caper?” Threat asked.
“Come on now, fam, me and you go back like two flats on a Cadillac. You the only nigga I put on this lick. I’m just looking out for my people.”
Threat massaged his chin as he thought on it for a minute. “Alright, Limb. I’ma get up with chu later.” He resurrected the engine.
“So, are you gon’ go through with it?” Limb asked.
“I said ‘I’ma get up with chu, Limb.’” Threat stated firmly, staring into the skinny man’s eyes through the rearview mirror.
“Alright then, man.” Limb hopped out of the car and jogged over to his Champagne Escalade truck. Threat kept his eyes on him as he drove out of the supermall’s parking lot and out into the street.
“So, what chu think?”
“Shit, you hungry?” Tiaz asked.
“Hell yeah.”
“Well, let’s eat then.” He dapped up Threat. “What chu know about this Majestic cat though?
“Is he pussy or what?”
Threat gave him a look like Are you serious? He then shook his head. “Nah, T, he’s definitely not pussy...” He went on to tell a story about the OG’s getdown.
The black pillowcase was snatched from off of his face, his head snapped in every which direction. He realized he was inside of an old warehouse and dangling before a host of masked men. He looked above and saw he was suspended from the ceiling by old rusted chains.
Smelling something familiar in the air, he looked down as his nose twitched. He inhaled and tried to distinguish the overwhelming odor. That’s when it dawned on him that it was gasoline he was breathing. His suspicions were confirmed when he saw one of the masked men toss the gascan aside.
“What ya’ll think? This shit here scares me?” He looked up at the chains he was hanging from then back at his abductors. “Fuck death! Gangstaz don’t die, we multiply.”
“Is that right, hot shit?” A voice came from within the shadows causing everyone to look on its direction. Right before their very eyes, a snazzily dressed man wearing a fedora peeled himself from the recess of the warehouse, taking deep draws from a Cubancigar. The men wearing the masks didn’t flinch as they recognized their boss. They focused their attention back on their capture while he narrowed his eyes trying to see exactly who it was approaching him.
“Majestic?” His eyelids snapped open and his jaw dropped.
“You guessed right.” The tall slender gentleman stepped before him, his face partially hidden by the shade of the shadows.
“What is this all about?” He frowned and shrugged.
“Your blocks, Marcus. I told you to give ‘em up, you wouldn’t listen. Now here we are.” He spread his arms and looked around. “You ready to die, nigga?”
“Gon’ kill me, it won’t stop my legacy from spreading.” He told him. “These lil’ niggaz out here hustling on these corners gon’ know that Marcus Bristol went out like a boss. My legend gon’ infect a hunnit mo’ impressionable mothafuckaz and they gon’ take to these streets and try to be just like me. You best believe that punk ass, so gon’. Gon’ and kill me if you want.” He spat on Majestic’s Mauri gator. A nasty yellowish glob spattered on the toe of the Italian leather shoe. The kingpin’s head snapped down to his foot then back up at the man that had blatantly disrespected him.
“As you wish.” Majestic dropped his cigar into the flammable liquid and a line of fire ripped up the ground toward the opposing man.
His eyes grew as big as saucers. “Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!” He panicked, dancing on the dangling chains looking like a puppet on the end of strings. Blue fire reached the tip of his sneakers and shot up his body, swallowing his entire form. Majestic and his men watched as the man screamed in excruciation, struggling to break free of his restraints.
“Raahhhhhhhhhh!” The man kept screaming and dancing until eventually his throat went raw and hoarse. He started moving sluggishly and then hewent slack on the twin chains and his head hung, his chin sitting on his chest. The fire continued its devouring of his carcass, crackling and popping. The smell of cooked flesh invaded the warehouse but the stench didn’t seem to bother his audience.
The masked men climbed into their three black H2 Hummers while Majestic slid into the backseat of a limousine. When the limo drove off the the triplets followed behind it.
“Yeah, I hear you, and fuck that nigga,” Tiaz said after listening to Threat’s story. “He got what we want and we’re taking it, straight like that.”
“You goddamn right.” Threat agreed.
***
By the time Threat pulled back up outside of Chevy’s house, the night had already staked its claim over the city.
“Say, man, I appreciate chu doing this favor for me.” Tiaz told Threat as he pulled his suit from the backseat which was covered in plastic.
“It ain’t ‘bout nothing,” Threat waved him off. “I’m just looking out for my brother. It’s on the love.”
“That’s what’s up.” He dapped him up. “Let me get outta here so I can hit the shower and shit, and get ready.”
“Alright. I’ma swoop Bianca so that we can get the car.” Threat informed. “I’ma slide back through like seven, cool?”
“Bet.” Tiaz slammed the door shut and trekked toward the house, with his partner in crime pulling off behind him.
He was about to climb the steps of the house when an ember glow from the side caught his eye. He tried to peer through the darkness but he couldn’t make out the figures hidden in the shadows.
Tiaz drew his banger from his waistline and slowly moved in on the figures with his gun extended before him. The closer he got the more the figures began to fill out before his eyes. It was Te’Qui and a taller dark skinned kid who was dressed in a red Cardinals’ cap, black Dickie shorts and low-top red All-Star Chuck Taylor Converses.
Tiaz lowered his banger to his side. Te’Qui choked and went into a coughing fit when he saw him. He held the smoldering blunt behind his back and fanned the faint traces of smoke.
“What’s up, Tiaz?” Te’Qui asked.
“What’s up with it? What are y’all doing over here?” Tiaz frowned.
Te’Qui shook his head side to side. “Nothing, just chopping it up with my homeboy. You haven’t met Brice yet, have you?”
“What’s up, lil’ homie?” Tiaz asked as he sniffed the air. Te’Qui and Baby Wicked excha
nged knowing glances. “Y’all back here getting faded?” He snapped his fingers and motioned for him to give him the weed. Reluctantly, Te’Qui passed the blunt to Tiaz. Holding it pinched between his fingers, he sniffed it. “What is this?”
“O.G. Kush.” Baby Wicked informed him.
Tiaz took a few pulls from the blunt, holding the smoke hostage in his lungs before blowing it back out.
“Man, you gon’ tell my mom’s?” Te’Qui asked.
“You can’t survive five years on a level four being a snitch. Y’all lil’ niggaz do y’all thing.” He passed him back the blunt. “I didn’t see you and you didn’t see me, alright?” He looked between the young men and they nodded. “Alright then, I’m finna take it in.” He dapped up the youngsters and made his departure.
Te’Qui and Baby Wicked watched Tiaz’s back as he walked away.
“Blood, your mom’s new boyfriend cool as a fan.” Baby Wicked told Te’Qui as he tookthe blunt from him.
“Yeah, he is pretty cool.” Te’Qui concurred before blowing smoke. A smirk accented his face. He liked Tiaz and wanted to be just like him.
Chapter 11
“He’s soooooo fucking amazing.” Chevy smiled as she danced around the living room like a ballerina on ice skates. She’d just finished telling herbestfriend what a dream Tiaz was and she couldn’t wait for her to meet him. “I really really think he can be the one.”
“Really, girl?” Kantrell beamed.
Kantrell and Chevy had known each other since middle school. They’d gone to Horace Mann Jr. High together. The pair had gotten along famously and carried themselves more like sisters than best friends.
Kantrell’s lifestyle was like any other kid’s upbringing in the ghetto. Her family struggled to make ends meet just as everyone else’s did. It wasn’t until her father became the hit man known as Casper that she began to see and experience the finer things that life had to offer.
Jeffery Combs went under the guise of Casper. He’d gotten the name for his skillful kills, being able to strike his targets with expertise and fineness. By the time his intended victims were dispatched, he’d be gone with the wind. It would be like no one was ever there, hence his street moniker.
