B-More Careful

by Shannon Holmes

  “Two!” shouted Moe.

  There was an eerie silence in the room. Tim Tim stood defiant. His life flashing before his eyes. He thought of this mother, his little sister, his twin and death. He didn’t want to come up off the stash.

  What would Dad do? popped in his head. This paper can be replaced, he thought, still wondering what his father would do. Before Moe could carry out his threat, he reluctantly began to speak, in an attempt to save their lives.

  “Yo, the stash is at my brother’s crib. There’s $300,000 there. You can have it, just let me and my brother go,” Tim Tim admitted, and this was the truth.

  “Alright now, now you talkin’, yo. You see how easy that was? When everybody cooperates, nobody gets hurt,” Moe said sarcastically.

  “Listen, Dave,” Moe said, blowing Dave up. “Take Tommy back to his crib and get that loot. Make him drive his car. Leave the Cherokee here for me.”

  Moe was calling the shots. There was no question who was in control.

  “If that nigga there tries anything funny or if that money ain’t right… smoke ‘em,” he said, shooting an evil sneer at both Tommy and Tim Tim.

  Dave agreed, while Tommy just looked at his brother.

  “I’m give y’all a half an hour to get there and back with the stash. If anything should happen to my man, if he don’t come back or call me within that time, ya brother’s a dead man,” Moe said, looking dead at Tommy.

  Dave grabbed a large beach towel out of the linen closet. He wrapped it around his hand and lower arm to conceal the weapon he held. Placing the barrel of the gun in the small of Tommy’s back, he gave him a firm nudge toward the door. Before heading out the door, the twins stared at each other briefly.

  Tim Tim looked at his brother. No one needed to say a word. The little niggas were twins, and once they made eye contact, one could always tell what the other was thinking. This is it, yo. I got a funny feelin’ about this nigga; this shit ain’t right. Hurry up back, Tim Tim thought, staring at his brother for what he was sure would be the last time.

  Tommy sent him back a telepathic message with his eyes. We comin’ up out of this shit, nigga. I’ll be right back, be strong. This shit ain’t over yet, baby. Tommy could feel the steel barrel of the gun pressed upon his back. He turned from his brother, breaking their private conversation. Dave led him out the door to go and retrieve the stash.

  As the door closed, Tim Tim’s heart began to pound. He didn’t even want to look Moe’s way, but just exactly where was this motherfucker? His heart began to pound as he thought of the nigga right behind his left ear.

  Why is this shit happening? Dave’s ignorant ass. Wait ‘til I get a hold of that motherfucker. He quietly prayed these two robbers wouldn’t do anything stupid. But, it didn’t look good for the home team.

  “Don’t look over here at me, motherfucker,” Moe shouted, as Tim Tim quickly turned his head, finally satisfied on knowing a nigga’s position.

  Meanwhile, Tommy and Dave had made it out the building and were walking in the parking lot.

  I can’t believe this shit. How the fuck is Dave robbing me? This weak bitch ass nigga and the other one, that’s a greedy motherfucker. Why he just didn’t take the bags and keep it movin’, Tommy thought.

  The home team was definitely hurtin’ right now. Tommy quickly thought of the many choices he had at that very moment, as Dave opened the driver’s side door and instructed him to get in. He did and watched as Dave walked across the front of the car with the gun pointed at him through the windshield.

  I got a plan for your ass, you simple bitch ass nigga, Tommy thought, as he watched Dave plant his ass in the passenger seat. I hope this motherfucker work.

  Chapter 4

  In the unlit room, Tim Tim watched Moe make his way over to the stereo system. His movements were off beat yet systematic. Keeping an eye on Tim Tim while he fumbled over the buttons, he quickly found the power button and pressed it. Bringing the stereo alive with lights and sound, Puccini filtered through the speakers, echoing Tosca in the air through the room. Tim Tim looked up at Moe, and in Moe’s black cold eyes, he saw death staring at him.

  Simultaneously and still systematic, Moe began to press the button, raising the volume higher and higher as he thought of Tommy and Dave returning with the money. Yes, his life would be different after tonight. For so long, this was what he had been waiting for, a real jackpot to call his own. The money the twins had was his jackpot and he was going to collect it.

  After realizing the volume would go no louder, he quickly turned around and aimed the gun like a sharp shooter, hitting Tim Tim three times in the head. Tim Tim’s body slumped to the floor, his inner self laid next to him in a pool of blood.

  Moe knew he couldn’t rob these cats and expect to live. It was do or die, so they had to go. He turned the radio back to off, and still systematically, he walked over to Tim Tim’s lifeless body. Reaching down, he checked his neck and then his wrist, making sure there was no pulse. There was none. He sat down on the couch next to where Tim Tim had just been sitting. He waited patiently, not even blinking. Moe was still, thinking and hoping that Dave handled his end and took care of Tommy after being handed the dough. I hope this nigga ain’t fucking nothing up, he thought.

  While driving to his spot where the three hundred thousand was stashed, Tommy miraculously discovered that Dave didn’t know his way once they were outside of Baltimore. So, Tommy took him on the scenic route and Dave was none the wiser as to what was going on. Driving through the strip he hoped to spot some of his wild ass young boys. But, he had no such luck. Where the fuck are my dogs at? Tommy though. Remembering he was on the clock, he headed home. He tried to make small talk, but Dave wasn’t feeding into it. Keeping his screw face on, Dave said nothing.

  “Yo, why you doing this, dog?” Tommy asked, trying to play on his intelligence. “You know me and you was cool. Before that shit went down, I useta’ look out for you.”

  “When you got knocked, I bailed you out and paid for your lawyer,” Tommy continued, in a friendly tone. “Plus I was the one who put money in your pocket when you came home. Remember that shit? If you never did what you did, you’d still be down with the squad.”

  His eyes cut in Dave’s direction to see if his words had the desired effect on him, but still there was no response. He tried again anyway.

  “Remember when you came home, and we threw that party for you with all those strippers and shit? You was doin’ ya thang that night, right dog?” he asked, hoping to jog his memory and remind him of the good ole days.

  “That’s the game, yo. Besides y’all was having the party for Scotty’s birthday and you just decided to make the shit about me since I was comin’ home. Y’all niggas was already having the party, yo” Dave said, coldly under his breath. He was on alert. His gun was pointed directly at Tommy’s kidney. Just in case Tommy thought about slamming on the brakes or doing anything funny, he’d still be shot.

  What? Tommy couldn’t believe his ears. Dave actually said something. Tommy’s words had finally hit home. Dave was actually beginning to wonder why he even set the twins up. Tommy was right, they had looked out for him, until he got the sticky fingers. They were better to him than anybody he ever worked for. His conscience was eating him up, but Moe’s orders were pushing him on. They already had more than enough cash back at Tim Tim’s crib to live real good, but for Moe it wasn’t enough.

  “Damn, it’s like that, dog?” Tommy inquired, with sincerity in his voice.

  “Listen, I’ll make a deal with you, yo. When we get to where we are going, just gimme $50,000 and we’ll call it a day,” Dave said, looking to see how Tommy would react to his request. “After you give me the dough, you gotta promise me you won’t try to get me back.”

  Even though he was robbing them, he still feared them. He’d seen their work in the past.

  “Yo, I won’t, you got my word, I swear,” Tommy said, faking concern.

  Tommy tried to reassure him everyt
hing would end right there, that all would be forgotten, and everything was cool. He knew in his heart, however, that the next time he ever saw Moe or Dave in this life or the next, he’d kill them both.

  At this point, Dave was just trying to save his own ass. He just wanted the money, so he could roll out. He was already fantasizing about what he would do with his loot. He was going down south where he’d be safe from Moe and the twins. In the back of his mind, Dave knew he’d never be safe in B-More, not after what he’d just done.

  Arriving at their destination, a nervous Dave was still gripping his gun, fearing for his own safety. Until the money was in his hands and he was on I-95 headed south, he wouldn’t feel safe. As they exited the car, he followed Tommy in the cover of darkness to his door. Reaching the door, Dave stood directly behind Tommy. He scanned the half-completed, slightly deserted townhouses for any signs of a set up.

  “Open the door,” Dave said.

  “I don’t have my keys. Remember, you took them from me?” Tommy asked, then continued. “I got to knock on the door. Don’t worry, don’t nobody stay here but my girl and me.”

  Instantly, Dave got suspicious.

  “Yo, you ain’t say nothing about no girl. I hope you ain’t trying to pull a fast one,” Dave said.

  “Be cool, yo. It ain’t nothing like that. Don’t worry, I got you. You the one lookin’ out for me remember?” Tommy replied back at him.

  Tommy walked up to the door. He knocked hard on it three times in rapid succession, not once but twice. He heard his girl come to the door and look through the peephole. The look on his face told her what to do.

  “Tommy,” she screamed from behind the door, as he dove to the ground. Ten shots from inside the house ripped through the door, turning it into Swiss cheese. Dave’s upper torso absorbed all ten shots, jerking his body backwards. He was dead before he hit the concrete.

  The one precaution the twins had taken in case of unwanted guests paid off. Never in their wildest dreams did they believe they’d have to use it, but they practiced it anyway. Now, thanks to his girl Gina, the money was safe. That’s why Tommy dealt with her. She was a soldier and he knew he could count on her to shoot first and ask question later.

  It took both of them to drag the body inside the house and down to the basement. There would be time later to clean up the blood and get rid of any evidence. Right now, he only had time to grab his bulletproof vest, his .44 caliber Desert Eagle and briefly explain to Gina what was going on. He was in a race against time and had wasted 45 minutes already. He only had 15 minutes left to rescue his brother. He prayed that it wasn’t too late.

  Pacing the floor, Moe anxiously awaited his crime partners’ return. Having already ransacked the house and finding nothing but drug paraphernalia, scales, vials, baggies, measuring spoons and cut, he was pissed that he couldn’t find any dope. Petty ass Moe did manage to find a couple pair of gator shoes, some sweaters and leather jackets in a trash bag, though. He placed it by the door. Yes, he most certainly was taking that too. Those shoes fit him perfectly and so did the butter leathers.

  What the fuck is taking so long, he wondered. Moe knew he should have brought someone else along. But he had nixed that idea because he was too greedy to divide the pie three ways. Moe wanted it all for himself. I hope this nigga takes care of business, thought Moe. If everything was everything, Moe figured he’d be on his way in the next 30 minutes without Dave. He had no intention of splitting shit with Dave, not one penny. Dave was weak. That shook ass nigga served his purpose by putting him down with the heist. One time when Moe was ready to move out on the twins before, Dave got cold feet and didn’t show up. This time, he had to actually threaten him to come along.

  Looking down at the two bags of money, Moe began to lust. Finally, he was paid. Now, he could stop robbing. He could be the big-time dope dealer he always wanted to be and ball the fuck out. He wanted to be mentioned in the same breath as the big-time hustlers he heard about when he was a kid. Names like Peanut King and Joe Dancer. He wanted to shine and be immortalized in street tales for years to come. Damn, I wish this nigga would hurry up with my money, Moe thought, as he looked down at the new watch on his wrist. Frank is really telling the time.

  Doing over a hundred mph in his Nissan 300ZX Twin Turbo, Tommy was driving like a madman. He and Gina were rushing back to Tim Tim’s condo. He had murder on his mind. If anything happened to his brother, there would be hell to pay. His co-defendant, Gina, was down for whatever.

  Ding Dong!

  The bell startled Moe out of his thoughts. He was so happy Dave had returned. Now, he could get the show on the road, kill Dave, kill the other twin, take the money and go about his business. It was a simple plan. So simple, wasn’t no way he couldn’t execute it.

  Ding Dong!

  It went off again before he could make it to the door.

  Peeping through the venetian blinds out of the kitchen window, he didn’t see the car. The parking spot was empty. It then dawned on him that whoever it was on the bell was already in the building. They had bypassed the intercom system.

  Moe quickly snuck over to the peephole and looked out. What he saw on the other side of the door was a beautiful dark-skinned woman in a form fitting dress. Tapping her foot impatiently, she waited for a response from inside the house.

  Not expecting anybody but Dave, he was caught off guard. Who the fuck is this? Moe thought. Confused, he walked away from the door, trying to gather his thoughts. He hoped she’d get the message that nobody was home and leave. He cursed himself, remembering that Tim Tim’s car was parked out front. Suddenly she banged at the door again real loud as if she was kicking on it, trying to break it down.

  “Tim Tim open up this damn door! I know you in there. I saw your car outside!”

  “Shit!” Moe cursed under his breath. Hesitant, he still was unsure of what to do.

  “Open the damn door! Why I still got to ring the bell Tim Tim? Why? If you in there with another bitch, I’m whoopin’ her ass, then yours!” she said loudly at the door.

  Fearing all this noise would arouse the neighbors suspicions, he had no choice but to let her in and knock her noisy ass off, too.

  While Gina played her part distracting Moe, Tommy had swung around the back of the building and climbed up the balcony to his brother’s second-floor apartment. From the shadows, he watched the scene play itself out, trying to locate his brother. Then, and only then, could he spring into action. The only thing that separated Moe from death was a sliding plate glass window.

  Kneeling, holding his gun low, Tommy scanned the living room in a desperate search for his brother. Then a strange feeling came over him. A wave of nothingness entered his body as his eye landed on his brother, who was lying balled up in a fetal position on the floor. Tim Tim’s glassy, lifeless eyes were staring right at Tommy, while his head lay surrounded in a pool of blood.

  The realization that his brother was dead hit Tommy like a hard brick thrown in his face. A feeling of rage, to the place of pain that rips open a heart, is exactly what he felt at that moment. Letting his instincts take control, Tommy jumped through the plate glass door, Desert Eagle blazing his entrance. Boom, boom, boom, boom. After a brief pause, another boom was all that could be heard.

  The sound of shattering glass followed by five loud thunderclaps of gunfire took Moe by surprise. Just as he was opening the door, he was hit. The first shot caught him in the side, disabling him and dropping him on impact. The others missed his head by inches, knocking huge chunks of plaster out of the wall. Tommy kept moving closer, firing as he advanced. He stepped over his brother’s body, crushing the shards of glass that had fallen. He didn’t care about the neighbors and definitely didn’t give a fuck about the police. Raving mad, Tommy had blood in his eyes. He was going to have his revenge. Nothing else mattered. Revenge would give Moe a closed casket funeral. He walked upon his squirming victim and looked down at him.

  “Please, please, don’t kill me,” Moe said weakly
, now pleading for his own life without absolutely any regard for the life he had just taken. Moe could feel his soul leaving his body. His insides were on fire and all he could do was beg Tommy not to kill him.

  Immune to his pleas, full of revenge and on the strength of his brother, Tommy stuck the gun in Moe’s mouth and squeezed the trigger blowing a hole in the back of his neck. As if nothing had happened, he immediately stood and looked down at his lifeless opponent. He turned his back to Moe’s dead body. Slowly, he walked over to his brother and knelt down against his cold lifeless body. He laid his head on Tim Tim’s cheek.

  “I took the nigga out, Tim Tim. I took him out for you,” Tommy said, now cradling his brother in his lap as tears streamed down his face.

  “Tommy,” Gina said, moving towards him.

  “Go!” he shouted, pointing to the door with his gun, as he heard her voice almost forgetting she was there. “Please just go, please. Go.”

  He wiped his tears, not wanting to share them with her, only his brother. Gina, not needing to go through it with Tommy waving his gun around and shit, rolled out. Back at the house, she had a dead body to deal with and knew just who could take care of it.

  The news of Tim Tim’s death and Tommy’s arrest drove their mother hysterical. Found right next to his brother’s dead body, gun in hand, Tommy was promised to see life in prison. The grief and depression consumed Tina. Stress gripped the family as a whole. A doctor granted her a prescription for Zoloft to help her make it through the funeral and burial of her dead son. The realization that her other son was facing life in prison was also taking its toll. This was the point in her life, in her time of suffering, that she turned to the Lord.

  Tina found religion and ran with it. She was a borderline religious fanatic, and to some degree, the word ‘cult’ would even be appropriate. Mimi, however, was the exact opposite. She wasn’t quite as open for believing as her mother and fell face first into negativity instead. Mimi stopped caring about everybody and everything, including herself.