by De'Kari
Mack Sauce’s body was laid all twisted the fuck up between his car and the fence. It looked like he was using his car as a shield the way it was shot up. His banger laid on the ground next to his body with the neck jacked back, a clear sign that he ran out of bullets. His body had at least sixty bullet holes in it. A few feet away was his cell phone.
There was no time to mope around or grieve. The police, no doubt, would be on their way. If they arrived any time soon, shit was going to be ugly. They needed to handle business and dip.
“Get the phone.” Clark told Tut.
“I’m already on it, dad!” As soon as the police went thru that phone not only would they have all of their numbers in the phone, but the last person he called was Tut. The Pigs would be all over that and that would bring heat down all around them.
“Yo Clark!” Everyone turned around guns ready.
Clark tried to identify who it was. It was a woman’s voice but that didn’t make a difference, it could be a set up. He finally recognized her when she started jumping up and down and waving her arms.
“What’s up Sonya?” He called over to her not wanting to deal with any bullshit.
“Yo Cuz! I seen everything! That shit was crazy!” She yelled back to him hella animated, swinging her arms and shit.
This got their attention, so he waved her over while walking in her direction. When she got within a couple of feet she told him.
“Cuz I swear to God that shit was crazy. I’m talking some right out the movie Wild, Wild West shit! For real!” Her animation was good for a movie but was too much for what was going on at the time. The little nigga was laying there dead as a doorknob.
Sonya was an O.G. smoker. She and Clark were like second or third cousins or some shit! She was cool peoples and though she was a smoker, he neva recalled her being on no fuck shit. So, they heard her out.
“So, the little cutie that’s stretched out over there was coming out of the store wit a bag in one hand talking on his cell phone. Suddenly four cars came speeding up Bayshore!” She was making all types of hand gestures and shit. Drawing the crowd back as she acted out the antics of what happened.
“When he saw all the cars he dropped his shit and started to take off down Oakwood Street but as soon as he did that like four or five more cars came flying up Oakwood! Seeing that he didn’t have nowhere to go the little, fine mothafuckas pulled his cannon out and stood his ground. But Cuzzo I’m telling you something like fifteen to twenty lil niggaz jumped out of them cars. Lil cutie ran behind his car and did his thang! I’m telling you cousin, he popped like three or four of them too”! Sonya was all out of breath, swaying back and forth on her feet.
“Where they at?” Clark asked now looking around for some bodies.
“They picked all of them up and put them back in the cars.” She told him with a look on her face like nigga is you serious, that’s what anybody would’ve done. Then she looked like she was trynna recall something.
“Oh yeah! Cousin that aint the crazy part.” She did a little shimmy with her feet and swept her arm out across her body like a magician.
“The craziest part of it all was they was Babies!”
“Huh? Fuck you mean Babies?” He asked her wondering if she had gone crazy.
“Ba-Bies! I mean little ass kids, couldn’t have been no older than sixteen.
As soon as those words left her mouth, the sound of the sirens could be heard in the distance.
“Good looking out Sonya.” He told her while handing her a knot of hundred-dollar bills.
“It’s nothing cousin. I love you! Be safe. Tell you mama hi for me!” She was talking so fast he barely could make sense of what she was saying.
Clark wasn’t listening to shit she was saying anyway, hearing the sirens meant it was time to go. They got the fuck outta dodge before them people showed up.
Back on O’Connor Street, Clark was trynna put shit together in his head. Shit was adding up. When mothafuckas tried to hit the spot over in Menlo he first thought it was somebody looking for a come up, normal jack boi, street shit. But then them mothafuckas tried to take him and Tut out at Johnathan’s and now this.
Clark didn’t believe in coincidences. These weren’t random acts that just happened to occur. Somebody had actually declared war on his team.
“Whatcha thinking dad?” Tut walked up with a whole XL pizza in his hands.
Clark looked at the pizza then said, ‘I’m thinking somebody declared war on us and aint told us.”
“I was just thinking the same shit!” Tut said with a mouth full of Pepperoni pizza.
“I want you to find out who the fuck it is. We need to handle this shit.” Clark was thinking sooner than later.
“I’m on dat shit, dad! Whatcha think about Sonya saying it’s a bunch of kids?” Tut took a couple bites off a new slice while he waits for an answer.
“I don’t know Rogue, that shit crazy!” Clark couldn’t quite wrap his head around that part.
“What I do know is we lost two niggaz. We gotta make some noise, the streets is watching.”
“Speaking of which I’mma ride back through that nigga spot and see if I get lucky.” Tut was ready to knock some shit down. “Damn right the streets are watching, niggaz gotta clap back”. The only thing that he loved more than food and pussy, was knocking some shit down.
“Nigga you bout to eat that whole pizza?” Clark couldn’t help it he had to ask, he was hungry as fuck!
“Nigga you aint getting none! So, I guess so. “Grabbing another slice out of the box. Tut was serious as fuck. He was knocking the whole thing down.
“I’m just saying nigga I can’t get a slice?” Clark asked as his stomach growled.
Tut huffed and puffed hella dramatically. He stared at his box for a minute then smacked his lips like he was angry.
“Here greedy ass nigga.” He pushed the box towards Clark, looking real pissed off about sharing his shit.
“Good looking out Rogue.” Clark smirked as he grabs the box.
When he grabbed the box, he realizes why the fat mothafucka decided to pass it to him. He opened it to double check and Tut busted out laughing. All the pizza was gone. Clark was furious that he had been that gullible, but more so because he was hungry.
Tut damn nearly threw up all the pizza as he laughed so hard.
“Come on nigga let’s hit the little taco shack on C Street, my treat.” Tut could barely talk from laughing so hard.
“You mothafuck’n right it’s yo treat after you pulled that fuck move.” Clark told him as he walked toward the car.
“Yall niggaz won’t something from Lil Mexico?” Tut called into the house at Drew and Black Rob. Once they both called out their orders, Clark and Tut headed off.
They walked inside of the taco joint and were glad that it wasn’t crowded like it normally was. A minute or two later they placed their order. After they were done placing their orders Tut told Clark he was walking to C Liquors, which was two doors down from the taco shack, right next to Price Barber Shop.
Tut needed a beer and a pack of blunts. As he walked up C Street, he was thinking to himself how much he loved his block. He only wanted a couple of things from the store, but he ended up getting twenty-four dollars’ worth of shit. Grabbing his bag, Tut headed to the door. As soon as he walked out the door and turned left, Lil Jeff was sitting right there in his car talking on his phone. Tut didn’t hesitate, he reached into his waist band for the Desert Eagle.
Lil Jeff was the nigga whose house they had gone to on Euclid when Tut got the call about the stash house in Menlo.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The first shot went right through the windshield and into Jeff’s chest.
Jeff fumbled trying to grab his banger that was sitting on his lap. In his fearful state of mind, he couldn’t grab a hold of it. He looked down to get his bearings straight to grab the gun but by the time he looked up Tut was standing at the drivers’ side door. Jeff shit his pants.
&nb
sp; “What’s up, Blood?” Tut taunted him. The fear that Tut saw in Jeff’s eyes was priceless! These were the moments Tut lived for.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Each bullet smacked into Jeff’s body causing it to shake back and forth like it was doing the “Thizz: dance.
Even though the police were known for driving down C street, Tut strolled toward Clark with his banger in hand, without a care in the world. Clark was waiting in the car with the food in the back seat.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Tut neva saw the little nigga coming up behind him trying to knock his head off. The nigga was tying his shoe when Tut walked out the store and started busting, so he just stayed down until Tut walked away. Then he stood up and started creeping up on Tut.
Clark saw the nigga when he raised up. Knowing that the he had the advantage over Tut, Clark didn’t waste time, he started yanking through the open driver’s side window. Two of the slugs caught the little mothafucka in the stomach. He folded like a lawn chair. Tut spun around, then walked over to the little nigga and stood over him and aimed at his head.
“Nooo!” He yelled so loud it shocked Tut.
Clark flew out the car and over to where the boy lay squirming in agony. Clark knelt and picked the little nigga up with ease. The nigga was in too much pain to resist. Clark rushed him to the car and threw him in the back seat right on top of the food. Tut was already in the passenger seat by the time Clark hopped inf. This was the opportunity that Clark had been waiting on. Now he would get some answers!
CHAPTER IX
(Parking lot of Mama B’s)
Snniff!.... Snniff! He lifts his head back after snortin the two fat lines of cocaine, so he can get a good drain.
“Got Damn! Styles wasn’t lying this that fire!”. He says to himself as his entire face immediately goes numb.
When Clark left Mama B’s house, Voorheeze took that as a cue to moving himself. Shit, he had things to do. He picked up his cell phone and punched in the number as he pulled out of the parking lot.
“Hello.” The caller finally picked up after five rings.
“What’s up lil cousin?”
“There you go wit that little cousin shit Rogue. I told you nigga I’m the big cousin.” Steve tells him as he laughs into the phone.
“Whatever nigga. You help me bust this move and you’ll be big cousin all day, today. Until then you just a little nigga.” Voorheeze is always clowning around and fuck’n with Steve.
Growing up they were like brotha and over the years Steve was the one nigga who neva switched up on Voorheeze. Even through all the times Voorheeze was in and out juvenile, jails and prisons. So, in Voorheeze eyes Steve was his brother. Hell, he had always considered Steve more of a brother than Clark when they were growing up.
“For real though cousin, tell me something good.” Voorheeze needed for Steve to come through for him.
“Oh nigga! You want me to tell you something good?” Steve antagonized him.
“Yeah nigga, tell me something good.” Voorheeze repeats.
He knew knows his cousin is playing but the coke Voorheeze anxious. He was is concentrating on the conversation and on his rear-view mirror. An all-black Lincoln Navigator has been behind him since he got on the freeway, this was making him nervous.
“Nigga, I’m getting money and pussy! And you know that’s good.” Steve is having a good time fucking with his cousin only because he knows that he did come through for him.
“Naaw check it out I got something I know you gone like rogue.”
“Now that’s what I’m talking bout! What’s good? What you wanna do?” “Where you at?” Voorheeze is amped.
“Nigga I’m wherever you tell me to be, whenever you say be there!” Finally, some good news for a nigga.
“Alright, I’mma text you an address. I’ll be there in half an hour.” Steve tells him.
“Alright, fa’sho that.” Voorheeze noticed that as he changed lanes, so did the navigator.
“One.” Steve calls into the phone as he picks up the book that he was reading to finish the chapter.
“One!” Voorheeze drops the phone.
The navigator is still behind him. Voorheeze is wondering if he is just being paranoid after all the coke. The Thornton exit is coming up. He switches lanes only to see the Navigator follows him.
“Man fuck this shit!” he says aloud. “We gone get this shit over with right now!” Voorheeze might not be the aggressive one, but he ain’t neva been one to run from nuttin.
He reaches over and grabs the cannon from the passenger seat and places It on his lap. Things must be working in his favor because as they approach the intersection the light turns red. As he stops, he throws his whip in park. The Navigator angles to pull alongside of him. Voorheeze is already out with the Desert Eagle down by his side.
“Pitch black at night or broad daylight a mothafucka can get it!” He thinks to himself.
When the Navigator gets right next to him, the passenger window rolled down and his arm rose up with his big ass cannon.
“What’s up nigga!” CJ yelled out the truck.
That was the only thing that stopped him from shoot’n. It took him a second to recognize who the nigga was. When he did he just shook his head.
“What! You gonna shoot, you gone shoot yo cousin in broad daylight?” CJ was laughing while he asked the question with his eyes beaming from the crystal meth.
“Nigga, you know you can’t be playin games out here, rogue, it’s ugly! Nigga I almost knocked you down.” Voorheeze tucked the cannon and walked over to the other side of the Navigator so he could be on the driver’s side.
“Nigga you always paranoid. Ain’t nobody out to get you, besides you know I keep a big, ugly, bitch.” If only CJ knew the shit that was brewing under the surface.
The signal light had turned green already, but the drivers just went around them honking their horns. Voorheeze climbed back in the whip and decided to talk to CJ through the window. After all, this was Fremont. Niggaz don’t hop out whips and talk in the middle of the intersection like they do in the hood, not in Fremont. He called his number out to CJ then drove off. Voorheeze had to meet Steve, and nothing or nobody was gonna fuck that up.
Voorheeze double checked the address in his phone, the address matched up, but he see Steve’s car, so he figured maybe he is early. He posted up in the car and while waiting he took another 1-on-1 of the coke. Five minutes later a Tesla truck pulls up behind him. Without any thought or hesitation, he clutched the cannon resting on his lap.
Both Falcon doors lift and to his surprise, Steve steps out of the vehicle. Steve stands 6’4” and weighs 290 lbs. with high yellow skin and clean-cut waves. The real image of a pretty boy. Contrary to his size which is so intimidating he has the most sincere sincerest and inviting smile ever. Plenty of niggaz look at Steve and see the pretty boy square that he is. But don’t get it fucked up! Steve might be a square, but he’s still a beast. Test him and you will regret ever forcing the kids hand.
Steve’s father was in the game real heavy back in the day. He also played in that corporate field. Seeing both worlds, Steve chose the smart route and it was paying off nicely for him. He was the hottest young real estate agent in the Bay Area, which is why they were there.
“Cousin, what’s up, nigga?” Voorheeze asked as the two briefly embrace. “Rogue, I see you, I see you.” “Yeah you know! That’s just my new lil work thang right there. Ain’t nuttin’ major”. Steve responds with cockiness and a big ass smile on his face.
“Oh okay, I see nigga. Yo new lil work thang, huh?” Voorheeze teased, making sure he put the emphasis on ‘Lil’ as he makes quotations with his fingers.
“Louie suit and shoes. Clear diamond bezel Rolex and the Tesla… but it’s a lil sum’n sum’n.” Voorheeze imitates Kat Williams as he is talking shit, his hands all waving while he bends down.
“You know how it is, you gotta dress to impress. Persuasion foe the occasion.” Steve’s
doing his best Don Juan. They both break out laughing.
“Naw, for real though, you gone like this when you see it”. Steve talks to him as he leads him up to the house.
The house is perfect. It is exactly what Voorheeze had in mind. It’s a two-story Victorian with a wrap around the drive-way. Venetian shades the windowwindows for the heat. They’re in the Hayward Hills right down the street from the college. Across the street from the house are four more houses which are on the inside of the mountain. This house sits on the outside of the mountain and it is the only house on that side of the street. It’s a four bedroom, three and a half baths with a living room and a family room that has a seven-foot old brick fire place which gives the room a Gregorian feel. The kitchen is state of the art, and the backyard covers an acre and a half of the mountain. From the backyard, on a clear day you can see across the Bay.
Once they finished looking at the house, they stood in the family room discussing a few things.
“Yeah dis him right here.” Voorheeze thinks about her as he stares over at the fireplace.
“You sure, cause we can look at a few more if you need to rogue?” Steve figured he would have to show him at least three or four different places before he made his mind up.
“Yeah cousin, I told you I didn’t need nothing fancy, Rogue. It had to be something nice though. More importantly, it needed to be out the way.” He got closer to Steve and lowered his voice when he spoke to him.
“The most important thing is that it’s out the way, Rogue.” He was telling Steve he didn’t want anyone to know about the house.
“Nigga! I get it. This yo lil tuck spot. You ain’t gotta worry about me telling nobody shit.” Steve adjusted his tie and gave Voorheeze a serious playful look. “And you damn sho aint gotta worry about me popping up here…unless it’s a problem with the money. Or it’s poker night, Nigga.” They both started cracking up.
“Nigga, the money always gone be straight. Speaking of poker, when is the next game?”
“Nigga on Friday like every week.” Steve tells him in a high-pitched voice. He’s surprised that Voorheeze would even ask him a dumb ass question like that.
