by Keon Smith
“Bitch, you gonna stop scaring me before you give me a freakin’ heart attack,” Breezy said, shaken up.
Amber and Gi-Gi burst out laughing.
Jazz looked around at all the bags of clothes and shoes that were everywhere and was about to ask what Gi-Gi blurted out before she could.
“What is all this?”
“I have a date,” Breezy said, beaming.
Jazz, Gi-Gi, and Amber rejoiced. They knew she hadn’t been with anyone since Kev’s death, and seeing her back to normal reassured them. “Well, are you going to tell us who this lucky guy is, or do we have to beat it out of you?” Amber asked.
“Y’all don’t know him, sluts. He works at a bank downtown, and he is so cute, so fine, and so paid.”
“Oh shit, do that, girl,” Jazz said as Breezy smiled.
“We’re supposed to meet up at this nice restaurant called the Capital Grill for dinner, then who knows,” she said devilishly.
“My cousin is definitely back,” Gi-Gi said.
“Back? Bitch, I ain’t never left. Now, which one of y’all gonna give me a ride?” Breezy asked, holding up a black Yves Saint Laurent dress. It was see-through with flowered designs to cover her goods.
Amber raised her eyebrows and said, “Damn, Bree. Now, that dress is perfect.”
♫ What’s beef? Beef is when you need two gats to go to sleep. Beef is when ya moms ain’t safe up in the streets. Beef is when I see you, guaranteed to be in ICU…
Ski-Mask dumped almost four and a half ounces of cocaine on the glass table inside of his Cherry Hill apartment. With the sound of Biggie influencing him in the background, a lump of cash in his pocket, thirty-one shots in the magazine of an Uzi lying on the speaker, and a naked white broad with blonde hair and blue eyes sleeping on the sofa behind him, he felt like life couldn’t get any better than it was now. He was finally winning and loved every second of fame.
Using a razor, he stretched the coke all the way across the table, forming a miniature football field. Grabbing a straw, he sang, “Are you ready for some footballllll!”
“What the hell are you doin’, gang?” a voice said behind him, causing him to snatch up the machine gun and point it in that direction.
Taliban quickly dipped behind his brother. “Yo, gang. It’s me. Now put that slammer away ‘fore you do something stupid, dickhead. And what the hell is wrong wit’ you? You singing the old Monday night football anthem like you… What the… Bro, look at this,” Taliban said, walking up to the table.
“Hey, what you think Ski Mask doin’, Dickey? Game is about to start,” Ski-Mask said with the gun in one hand, straw in the other.
Abdulallah looked down at the table with disappointment. “Typical. This swine-eating kafr’s about to murder himself in his own home. First, you have the filthy kafr bint’ who probably hasn’t made extenga in her life, then you got the white shaytan here, waiting to take you on a first-class trip to the hellfire.”
Montega looked over on the couch at the sexy white chick with the nice-size breasts. She was out cold with no panties or bra on. He shook his head. “I know you wasn’t about to snort all this, was you? Who the hell do you think you are? Boston George? You supposed to be my main enforcer, and you over here tryna check out already,” he said as Abdulallah destroyed Ski-Mask’s cocaine creation with a quick wave of the hand.
The coke blew about like baby powder.
“Hey! What da fuck, Dickey. Ski-Mask was about to drag that. You muthafuckas mess up wet dream, you know that? Look what you’ve done!” Ski-Mask protested with his arms spread wide.
“Man, get ready. We ’bout to roll upstate to see your brother. I know he’s probably going through it right now. Nobody has been to see him yet.”
“What about the range?”
“Olivia ain’t there. She got some kind of promotion out in Florida, so I guess the firing range is a done deal, and so is the exotic car thing we had going. Now, c’mon, bol. We ain’t got all day. You want me to wake your shorty up and tell her to bounce while you at it?”
“Naw, she cool,” Ski-mask said, wiping his nose. “She gonna wait for Ski-Mask to come back and put her ass back to sleep again. Ski-Mask got dope dick that make ’em drowsy.” Ski-Mask grabbed his crotch.
“Man, ya ass gonna overdose for real if you don’t stop getting’ high on your own supply,” Taliban lectured before picking up the machine gun to inspect it. “It ain’t a day that goes by that you ain’t high.”
Abdulallah leaned over Montega’s shoulder and said, “Look who’s talkin’.”
Dead Man Walking
“Cuz still talkin’. He still breathin’…”
Shug
In a maximum-security prison upstate, Lil’ Man was escorted down the corridor in chains with four guards surrounding him. When he got into the visiting booth, the guards uncuffed him then locked the door behind him. Sitting down, he recognized the friendly face across the glass and smiled. They both grabbed the phone on each side of the glass.
“What’s up, bol?” Montega asked.
“Ta bien, just another day in hell, waitin’ to meet Satan at the end of the road,” Lil’ Man replied.
Montega sadly nodded. He felt bad that it had to end like this, but they both knew where Lil’ Man was headed to begin with. “Did you get the bread I sent you?”
“Every month. Looks like you really living up to your name now, but yo, stop sendin’ it. It ain’t no use for me to be rich on death row. I’m deadweight. Save that bread for that castle you always talked about. You know, the one with the underground parking lot with all the fancy cars.”
Montega smiled. It was obvious that Lil’ Man had been listening to him talk to Faith about his dreams.
“So what’s poppin’ out there? Did you get at fat ass yet?”
Montega shook his head no. “Well, what are you waiting for? That puta shoulda been dead. C’mon, Montega. You supposed to be smarter than that. And from what I hear, Shug is dangerous. You keep stallin’, and he’s gonna get the upper hand on you like he did with the others. It don’t take long for someone to find out about a family member, so I advise you to go at him with everything you got—unless you getting soft on me because you got a little dough now.”
Montega snorted with a smile. “Never that, bol. You heard what ‘Pac said. They say money bring bitches, and bitches tell lies. It’s more niggas jealous—”
“Then muthafuckas die,” Lil’ Man said, nodding his head to his favorite song. “Just make sure you handle your business because what happened to Gutter was fucked up. I lost two close friends. I’m not tryna lose another, so be careful, homie. I hear that dude got some major ties to some people that’s really doing numbers. You ever heard of the Great White Family?”
“Naw,” Montega said, oblivious to the name.
“Well, they live in Cali, and they don’t play around. There’s this guy name Clyde; he runs the organization with this bitch name Diamond. That’s his sister. From what I hear, she’s the coldest, even colder than us. I heard she kills her enemy with just a kiss. It sounds crazy, but it’s true. They damn sure eating, and they numbers don’t lie. That’s the talk on death row.”
Montega thought about his shorty Dee from Cali. He made a mental note to ask her if she’d heard anything about the White family when they went to dinner later on that night.
“I want you to listen to me, Montega, and don’t take this personal, but don’t come up here no more. I don’t want you to see me like this. I want you to remember me how I was out there on them streets. And most importantly, take care of my baby sister. Treat her how I would but better, and guard her with your life. Promise me you’ll do that for me, and we’re squared off on everything.”
Montega nodded. “On my mother.”
“I love you, bro. You’re the brother my mom shoulda had,” Lil’ Man said.
Montega nodded in acceptance. Lil’ Man had been true right down to the very end, and at that moment, Montega swore on everyth
ing that he would honor his wishes. After Lil’ Man got to talk to his brother, Ski-Mask, and cursed Nino out for the last time, they headed home. It felt as if Lil’ Man had already died. To Montega, Lil’ Man was his people, his heart, his brother, so his every request would be fulfilled, starting with Shug. Little did he know, Shug had his own agenda.
“Listen up. My reason for calling you all here on this cold, windy night is simple,” Shug said to the group of henchmen surrounding him inside a South Philly warehouse by the docks on Delaware Avenue. He pulled out a picture of Montega that he got from Gee and held it up. “This is your target. Now, some of y’all already know what this dude looks like.”
Shug made eye contact with an agitated Maniac before continuing. “As far as the rest, if you don’t know him, now you do. His name Is Kenny Carter, but he goes by the name Montega. If you spot him anywhere, I want him dead—end of story. For the man that merks him, there’s a quarter-mil waitin’ for you.”
Everybody’s faces lit up when they heard the price tag that was on Montega’s head. “This dude drives a black ’96 Impala SS. Remember that he killed Kev. There’s already been several attempts on his life, so he’s well-aware of shooters tryna run up on him. The object is to catch him by surprise. I don’t care if he’s pushin’ a baby stroller; if you see him, shoot first, ask questions later. No one sleeps tonight until they find him. No one gets any pussy. All I want you to do is hunt… Hunt for this lone wolf. Now, roll out.”
As the men rushed to their vehicles to search the city for the man in the picture, Maniac stepped to Shug, obviously angry. “I told you I could handle it myself.”
“Yeah, well, obviously, you can’t. Cuz still talkin’; he still breathin’. He still a pain in my ass. You wanna prove yourself? Bring his body back in a bag. And you can start at this location,” he said, pulling a piece of paper from his pocket.
Maniac looked at it and frowned. “And what makes you think he’ll be there?” Maniac asked.
“I don’t,” Shug said, spaced out. “But if I were in his shoes, I’d make sure I’m there on time.”
Maniac nodded before getting into the car and driving off. If the location was accurate, there was no escaping death tonight.
Betrayed By A Jewel
“You killed my boyfriend…”
BREEZY
The black Impala growled up to the restaurant on Chestnut Street in Center City. Montega scoped out the scenery. From the looks of it, everything seemed fine, so he drove around to find a nice place to park. The city was flooded with events that night, and the clubs were filled, making it hard for him to find a spot. He eventually found one two blocks down and around the corner on Manning Street.
He stepped out, dapper, in an all-black Ralph Lauren tuxedo with black and white wing-tip shoes. His cufflinks had the Silent King’s logo on them. After setting the alarm on the car, he headed for the Capital Grill, where he was supposed to meet his future wife. For Montega, everything was starting to go well for him. The city was slowly falling in his hands, and he had money and a woman who he could have honestly brought home to his mother had she still been alive. He felt like nothing could go wrong.
Once he walked in the restaurant, he greeted the hostess and gave the woman his name so she could check the guest list. “Oh, here you are, Mr. Carter. Your date hasn’t arrived yet, but we have your table ready in the back. Please follow me.”
Montega followed the woman through the fancy dining area that resembled the Titanic’s first-class dining room. They had live jazz, crystal chandeliers, and suave waiters—the works.
Sitting nearby, Breezy sat by herself, waiting for her date to arrive as well. She checked her watch again. It was now 8:00 p.m. So she sipped on her glass of wine and almost spat it out when she saw the hostess escort Montega to his table. She had to do a doubletake to make sure it was really him.
What is he doing here? she questioned herself.
As much as she despised him, she had to admit he was extremely handsome and looked great in a tux. Even some of the women with dates were checking him out on the low. Montega searched the room face by face to store them in his memory. When he came across the woman in the black see-through dress and black suede pumps, he had to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him. Her natural hair was shoulder length and Indian straight, and her face was glowing without a single blemish.
“Breezy,” he muttered to himself as he sat down.
When she caught his eye, he nodded out of respect. She returned a forced smirk and a short, girlish wave. Montega pulled out his cell and tried to call Dee’s number but frowned when the operator said the number was disconnected. He immediately took the phone from his ear and checked the number, making sure he dialed the right one. “Disconnected?” he asked with a frown.
Even though he was disappointed, he decided to wait and see if Dee would show up. Ten minutes later, he concluded that she wasn’t coming, which had him worried. He placed his elbow on the table and sank his cheeks into his palms, irritated. He had sat there for over half an hour, and, still, no call. It was then he had heard Samorah’s voice in his head saying, I guess nothing lasts forever.
He started to call her and see what she had been up to, but his attention was drawn to Breezy, who looked to be arguing with someone on her cell phone.
“Bitch, I ain’t know he was your husband. He told me he was single… Home-wrecker? Look, bitch, I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, but you ’bout to get your feelings hurt… What! Well, fuck you too.”
Click!
Breezy shook her head while gently cuffing herself in the forehead. She couldn’t believe the bad luck she was having lately. “No show?” a voice asked, standing on the other side of the table.
Breezy looked up and saw Montega. She was too upset to speak. She just nodded.
Montega looked down at the vacant chair and asked, “May I?”
Breezy looked at him suspiciously. As much as she wanted to tell him no, her mouth said, “Go ‘head. I don’t care. Did your date stand you up too?”
“Nothing lasts forever,” he said with a pause and a thought. “Anyway, you ready to order? I’m starvin’.” He picked up the menu and opened it.
“Order?” Breezy asked in disbelief. “Kenny, what are you doing? You know how I feel about you. You killed my boyfriend. Now, you’re actin’ as if everything is just peaches and cream. I hate you. Do you know that? Do you feel comfortable sitting with me with all these knives around?”
“I ain’t got you hating me, shorty.”
“Oh yeah?” Breezy said, snapping her head back. “Explain to me why not.”
“It’s simple. People fear those they hate,” Montega explained. “You’re too strong-minded and too bold to fear anybody. I watch you when you think I’m not lookin’. You might dislike my ways, but it’s not hate. I know what hate is, and this isn’t it,” he said, looking over the menu. “Look. I know I’ve done some crazy shit in the past, but what can you do but love me or leave me the hell alone? And right now, it appears that we need each other’s company. So let’s not fuck it up with bad karma over what happened to your dude and my homie. If you haven’t noticed, there’s a black cloud hanging over my head. I’m paying my dues.”
Just then, the waiter arrived to take their order. Breezy sucked her teeth, rolled her eyes, and then made herself order the Thai-marinated lobster with avocado, mango shrimp, and linguine. Montega had the chicken lasagna with garlic bread and a chef’s salad. When the food arrived, Breezy’s eyes lit up when she saw what he was eating.
Like a kid, she whined, “Ohhh, gimme some of that.” Montega slid the salad over to her. “I’m sorry. That was so childish of me. I love salad though,” she said, stabbing at the lettuce and stuffing it into her mouth.
“Don’t tell me that’s how you got all that back there, is it?” he asked, referring to her ass.
She slowly raised her middle finger at him. “Whatever, boy. Stop being so nasty,” she said befo
re retrieving her fork. “You know what you need to do? You need to take my advice and watch your back because Shug is still lookin’ for you. And the only reason I’m tellin’ you this is because you’re my best friend’s brother. So don’t get smart like you did at the club a while back. Just take heed.”
Montega dug his fork into the cheesy lasagna and watched as the colorful strings stretched to his mouth. He engulfed a forkful, chewed it, and said, “You think I haven’t noticed? See, that’s the difference between men and wolves. Shug sends goons to do his dirty work. I take matters into my own hands. Mark my words, Shug won’t last, and neither will anyone else that’s ridin’ with him. I’m taking over this city, Bree, and I’m doin’ it with a crooked smile. See?”
Breezy squinted at the handsome man in front of her as he smiled with confidence. She took a deep breath and drank some more wine. It was really helping her get through their encounter, perhaps more than she knew.
“I saw your letter, you know,” she said, looking at him. He didn’t stop eating, nor did he respond. “That is one clever hideout you have there in Awbury Park.”
Montega looked up at her.
Seeing his discomfort, she said, “Relax. If I wanted you dead, you would be.”
“That’s relieving to know,” he said, wiping his mouth and taking a gulp of wine. “So… how are you holdin’ up?”
Breezy slowly snapped, slamming her fork to the plate when she heard the question. She stared at him as reality struck her. Really? she thought with hooded eyes.
Montega saw her sudden mood swing and quickly tried to fix it. “Look, shorty. I know we don’t see eye to eye on things, and I know I might have done some bad shit, but—”
“Bad?” Breezy interrupted. “Kenny, you took away someone special to me. Then you expect me just to forget about it and move on, just like that. Are you serious?”
