Who Shot Ya Box Set

by Renta

  ***

  ~Assata~

  I plunged deeper into her essence faster and faster. She was sweating, trying to be a big girl, as she took the dick. I tried to be a big boy and take the pussy as she threw it back. I grabbed her neck gently, pulling back as far as I could without coming completely out. I drove as deep as I could—as fast as I could on the down stroke. Her body quivered—my nature roared—she cried—and I growled.

  ***

  ~Jazzy~

  “Mama Ellen, help me. You know where my heart lies—that love is explosive. I’m with a man I love in order to protect the man I’m in love with. Yet, I’d rather love Assata to our deaths than to live with the man, I’ll end up hating and regretting for not being with the man I love for in the first place. Maybe it makes no sense to some—but—but to you, I know it does. What can I do, Granny? Tell me. Are you even listening to me? Should I marry this man even though my heart is absent? Should I go to Assata? Please, hear me, help me.”

  Tears welled up in my eyes as confusion ignited within me like gas fumed after a match had been struck.

  “So much has happened, Granny—I hear, Assata, is with a new woman. My heart breaks. There are so many people dying around him. I don’t know when he’ll be next, but I do know I want to be with him regardless of what life has in store.”

  The waves rolled over my feet in a foamy bath as a lone crab stumbled forward. It paused and played with the seashell, I tossed aside. Just as I thought it was about to move on, it turned towards the ocean and parked itself on the sand next to me, as if it knew I could use a friend.

  ***

  ~Assata~

  I honestly didn’t know how the peach scented candles got lit, but the erotic atmosphere was aglow with the dancing flames. Chocolate laid with her head on my chest, with her left leg over my thigh as her hand traced up and down my stomach.

  “Assata, don’t you ever get tired of the streets? The possibilities? I mean, I’ not trying to change you, it’s just a question,” she murmured.

  For some reason, the first thing that came to my mind was the girl Six. The conversation we had at her spot so many moons ago. I never understood how females could meet a street nigga in the streets, yet somehow wind up wanting him to stop being what attracted her in the first place. Now, that I thought about it, the question never deserved this much of my energy because it was evident. When they first meet a nigga, it’s all physical. They didn’t give a fuck about ‘em. They were just attracted to the bread and the thug appeal, but when that dick gets good and emotions are born—they began to give a fuck.

  “Feel me, Chocolate—the streets loaned me the tactics of survival. They demand my loyalty as payment. Yea, I get fed up with the life, but so does the square when things ain’t going his way—it’s life, ma.”

  She lifted her head up and kissed my lips. “Assata, all you have to do is recognize, that even if your yearn exceeds your deserve. The truth in what love can develop castrates all ties to the teardrops of a lonely gangsta. What makes you chose the life you live? Do you hate life so much, you’ll continue killing our black generation, or worse—get yourself killed?”

  My silence was thick, as I studied this woman that spoke with so much conviction.

  “Look, baby, it’s time to grow up. Yeah, I respect your gangsta, but the streets don’t love nobody. You’re loyal to something that can’t be loyal to you. Haven’t you ever thought about a family—getting married? Baby boy, there is so much more to life that you haven’t seen yet. There’s such a beautiful and articulate woman that’s willing to cater to you—wait on you hand and foot. All you gotta do is open your eyes. Don’t no woman wanna lay awake at night wondering if her man will make it home safe. You feel me, Satta?”

  I pulled her down for another kiss I had to give it to her righteously. “Yea—I can dig that, but vibe with me, queen—all my life I’ve journeyed through the struggle trying to find the beauty in it. I can’t lie to you and say I’ve never thought about turning my back on the streets. But, the truth is—even if I square up, the streets is me! It’s just who I am—I’m a dope-fiends son, ma. Yea, it’s not all I know, feel me?”

  “Yea—I do, but see Assata—the reason I’m so shook about giving you all of me is because I’ve endured what comes with dealing with a man of your caliber. First, it’s the thrill of being the good girl with the bad guy. Then comes the empty promises of sweeping me off my feet and taking me away from all the drama of the streets. I have dreams, though, Assata. I’m more than the average street girl. I’m a Queen that—”

  As placed my finger against her lips, I crushed that spiel. Every female I’ve met has either said she’s been raped or she’s nothing like the next or last female. Sometimes that shit didn’t have to be said, show me. I flipped Chocolate over and rolled on top of her. I kissed each eyelid—her forehead—her nose—and last, her lips. The passion screamed in her eyes—so much resided in mine. Real shit, I was scared to release my heart. Shawty was tuggin’ on it, but I’m holding on to it for dear life.

  ***

  ~Jazzy~

  I closed the door behind me, our dog, Blue damn near trampled me. His tongue was hanging outta his mouth, as he sniffed and rubbed up against me. I could tell he was happy to see me.

  I smiled. “Sup, baby—you enjoy the beach?” Shotta said as he walked from the back room.

  He stepped into my space and pulled me close to his hard body. Upon contact, his nature-raised—every inch. My mind and body wasn’t in accord, yet I wrapped my arms around his neck, lifted my face, and gave the sexiest look I could muster. I reached down, massaged his girth—I want him—no! I want Assata! He started peeling my clothes off layer after layer. Then he began to kiss my body—every portion. First my nipples—then my stomach—hips—inner thighs—calves—knees—ankles—feet—legs and thighs—thighs—paradise!

  Chapter Sixteen

  Gangsta’s Party

  ~Face in the Dark~

  Three days later

  “Oh, shit,” I whispered, as I watched the four Russians in the black Mercedes 600.

  Even though the tint on the car was pitch black, I knew that the four shadows in the luxury vehicle were armed with the type of firepower that would allow a war to ensue for days if they were not killed first. As bad as I wanted to make that possibility a reality, I just couldn’t reveal my identity to these men. I’d had dealings with each of them on different occasions, and one of them had been between my creamy thighs for the past four months. I watched as they watched the object of both of our interest.

  Assata and his brothers stood outside of the house that I assumed they thought no one was privy of, having a conversation that seemed heartfelt, seriocomic. I watched as the three men laughed and Pain sparked what was more than likely a blunt of something exotic. Their hands were turned in the opposite direction in which me and the gunmen were positioned, and just as I was ‘bout to get comfortable for the wait, a red beam landed on the back of Assata's head. It was like watching a horror movie in slow motion—like Phil Collins must have felt as he watched that man drowned when he had the opportunity to save him but didn’t.

  My breath froze in the same instant that Assata paused, then put his phone to his ear, in what must have been spiritual intervention, his phone dropped. He bent down to pick it up as a deadly whisper hissed through the air as the silenced bullet streaked over his head. A strange looked crossed Pains face as he took a studious look around. His instincts must have been working overtime because his stare landed directly on the 600. Right as he tapped Goose to get his attention, the Mercedes eased away from the curb. A trained eye would have noticed the tint passenger window rolling up as it picked up speed and zoomed into the twilight. Damn, God had plans for this man. He’s dodged more bullets that Craig and Smokey on the movie Friday!

  ***

  ~Pain~

  “Fam—did you hear that?” I asked Goose, as my senses kicked into gear. “Maybe this good Kush got me trippin’ or—”
>
  “Naw, what you talkin’ ‘bout, lil bro?” Goose questioned.

  “That buzzing sound that just zoomed through here?”

  “Mann, that bidness y’all smoking got yo’ head gone—that wasn’t nothing but a mosquito. You and this nigga trippin’,” he said, as he looked down at Assata kneeled down looking at his phone as if it was an artifact that was gonna prove some type of history.

  “He’s so high he can’t even stand back up! Look at him, see—that’s why I don’t smoke, bruh. That shit would have me doing some real spooky shit,” he said, between fits of laughter.

  Looking down at bro, I must admit that this some fiya green, but—one thang I know, two thangs fa sho, if that was a mosquito, it was the fastest, hottest mosquito that eva flew past my face. Secondly, the look on Assata’s face ain’t the look of no high mu’fucka! In fact, he looked as sober as a reformed drug addict at a sobriety meeting.

  “Sup, bruh—why the fuck you lookin’ like that? What’s wrong wit’ you?” I asked, my eyes still roamed as two problems occurred at the same time. I tapped Goose to show him the black Benz that had already pulled away from the curb, and in the same instance, Assata rocked our galaxy.

  “Fam, we need to get to Denton Community—Lovey just had a heart attack.”

  ***

  Lovey stared out of the window of her hospital room. The sun still hid just beyond the surface as birds created pale shadows in the sky. Silently she thanked God for bringing her through the mild heart attack. The news the doctor gave her was devastating, and the first thing that penetrated her mind was the prayer of God taking her before He took her babies. She was at peace with it if that was His plan. She was even more gracious that He’d given her another day to see the sun kiss the Heavens. While lost in her thoughts of the future, the door to her room flew opened and her boys spilled in like a violent storm. Assata was the first to make it to her, yet he merely stood above her with an intense look in his eyes.

  “Boy, you’s a sight for sore eyes, give your Lovey a hug and stop standing there looking like you’ve lost your manners!”

  Assata leaned down and wrapped his arms around her—tight and vice-like.

  “Boy—you about to squeeze the life out of me,” Lovey wheezed affectionately.

  He still held on tight. The visions he had while stuck in his comatose state played behind his lids, thoughts of losing her took his breath away—made him sick.

  “You bet not eva—eva—eva scare me like that again, young lady, you hear me woman?” he grumbled, as he broke the embrace.

  Pain pushed him out of the way and wrapped her up in his love. “Get out the way, fam— you ain’t the only one that needs this typa love,” he kidded Assata. “But, like he said, Queen, don’t eva do us like that again! You made me throw away a gram of Kush!”

  Lovey fixed him with a quizzical stare as she tried to figure out what the hell Kush was. The room exploded in laughter as Goose elbowed his brother out the way.

  “Never mind him, sweetness, how are you?” Goose gazed down into her pretty browns, anyone with eyes could see the turmoil that resided just beyond the loving smile.

  “Aww hush—all of you,” she smiled, as mist converged in her eyes. “Y’all sho’ know how to make a lady feel special, I’m blessed.” She attempted to downplay the storm that was sure to spill from her eyes once she revealed the devastating news to these three men that loved her more than life.

  Goose, ever the observer, saw the storm before it spilled from her. “Tell us what happened, mama, what’s going on?”

  It’s as if his voice—his request—it all cracked her façade, and the truth that she wanted to hide from them exploded in her morale. They deserve the truth! She taught them to never keep secrets from one another, especially from her. Knowing this, she would never be able to forgive herself if she was to be viewed as a hypocrite in their eyes. She made eye contact with each man individually, her gaze finally settled onto Assata. He was the baby of the three, yet the one the devil toyed with the most.

  She reached for the remote connected to the bed and adjusted herself into a sitting position. Once she was comfortable, she scooted over just enough and patted the empty spot without breaking her stare.

  “Come, sit right here chile, I need to feel your energy.” She cracked that smile, that always gave solace to the wilderness that resided within each one of them.

  Assata didn’t fall for it, yet still complied out of respect. Pain sat at the foot of the bed, and Goose kept his post standing. He could feel the darkness that was rolling from a corner of the world that he nor his brothers had ever ventured. His eyes turned to slits as a cold chill snaked itself around his heart and held on tight. They could count on one hand without using all five fingers how many times they’d witnessed Lovey cry. Even when her other half, her late husband, was gunned down in 1965, two days after the Watts Riot. This had to be some deep shit!

  She took Assata’s face in her hands, they all understood that Assata was her baby. She took on the duty of mothering him after his moms died in 2002—the day after Valentine’s Day.

  “Assata—you’ve been angry at God your entire life. Chile—you remember when you and ya’ mama was in Oak Cliff, and she was about to spank ya narrow behind for accidentally setting her couch on fire? You ran and locked yourself in the room and called me. Till this day, I still don’t’ know how a five-year-old chile remembered all them numbers, but you did—umhm—you sho’ did. I remember you cried, and when I asked you why, you said—Lovey, mama trying to whoop me cause I was tryin’ to get Gods attention. I asked you what you meant, and you said—I was praying, but Him wasn’t listening so I thought if I used mama’s lighter he could see where I was at. But, Him let mama’s couch light up—now she wanna whoop me, but Lovey, I promise it was an accident. I just wanted God to listen!” The room ignited in laughter.

  Even Assata smirked at the trip down memory lane, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. As he searched hers, he couldn’t seem to shake the ice that seemed to be solidifying around his heart. Anticipation sliced the throat of his patience, and the words slipped from his lips—

  “Lovey, what the fuck is going on—we—”

  ‘Smack—' There was no surprise—no anger—just deep waters as he rubbed the spot that Lovey just slapped.

  “You watch ya mouth, ya hear? You ain’t too big for me to turn ya behind red. You ain’t out there with them heathens—you respect ya, Lovey, hear me,” she chastised.

  “I’m—I’m sorry, Queen, I—it’s just—”

  “Sorry is a title for lazy—trifling negro. I know I ain’t raised my boys to be either,” she cut him off. “Now, I know you feel something amiss, baby—all of you can, but that’s what I’m telling you. You must cage that animal within you, chile, it has no place here. Chile, I reminded you of that memory because I know that same little boy that called me that day still resides in you. He’s gonna try to get God’s attention again! This time, the fire he may cause will be too great to extinguish—” she paused, as she looked over at Goose. “This time, Goose is the one to lose his grip with patience.”

  “Lovey, you’re spooking me—just tell us what’s going on, so we can know what to do to help.”

  Lovey shook her head slightly as she turned eyes baptized in pain onto him. “There—there’s nothin’ you can do, chile. I’m dying y’all, my heart is old, and has gone bad on me.”

  ***

  ~Ice-Berg~

  Two Days Later

  The black tar heroin, I got was raw—fresh off the boat. I sat in the kitchen and watched as Twisted taught Tessa how to mix the quinine, lactose, dextrose, and bonita in a perfect mixture in the blender before cappin’ it up. I stared at the twenty bricks on the floor, it reminded me of the day me and my lil bro, Nutz sat in that warehouse, the day our paths took different directions. This ain’t how I envisioned shit. This was my brother’s dream—his death sentence. Thoughts of my fam touched me somewhere deep. My mind began to
get the best of me until Tessa asked a question that even I wrestled with.

  “Baby, has anyone heard from Mena? It was not like her to not get at me, and ever since they admitted her moms to that psych ward, I’d been worried about her.”

  My eyes found Twisted, he never broke his concentration on his work. “Naw, bae, I ain’t heard shit from lil’ mama ever since she ran up out the emergency room when they told us about Lil’ Joe.”

  To the naked eye, nothing seemed astray, but to a person that’s known him his entire life, the fabrication was evident.

  “Say, bruh, you good? I’m ‘bout to murk out,” I interrupted his flow.

  He turned his red-rimmed eyes to me, I could tell he was sampling the product, or maybe the mask wasn’t thick enough to prevent the power of the morphine that danced against it.

  “Fam, you know, I got this bidness—and if things get to cookin’, my lil’ friend will help me simmer it down.” He nodded to the M4 on the counter.

  I nodded towards the living room. “Rock with me real quick, it won’t take long.”

  As he turned off the blender Twisted pulled the mask off his face and a long string of snot hung from his nose. He used the back of his hand to wipe it away. I shook my head as I turned to leave the room. Shit crazy mayne, my niggaz head not right. We entered the living room, and the first thing that caught my attention was the boarded-up window my lil’ homies noggin’ came crashing through.

  It was just one of the many indications that shit had gotten too thick, and it was time for a sit down with the boy Assata. But, first—I had to get things correct with lil’ buddy, right here cause he was gonna end up taking down the entire clique if he didn’t tighten up. I turned to face him, it was apparent that he was as high as Jesus—I shook my head in disappointment.