by Brick
Dame slammed his fist down and growled low, “Then why are my brothers and sisters not my keeper? Why do you sit in front of me and smile and play the game as if you and I do not have beef? You think I am so gone that a nigga is stupid now? Do you forget who the fuck I am?”
Every female and male boss at the table began to tense up the moment Dame’s voice rose an octave, but it was when he laughed and sat back that their hair visibly stood on end.
I stood back signaling to a set of bodyguards that Big Jake had trained personally. Doors suddenly closed, and the room became thick with tension.
“Forgive me, forgive me. I meant no disrespect to raise my voice, although it seems some of you have given me nothing but disrespect. My own family turns on me and makes money trades with lords who say they are looking out for me and my betterment. Isn’t that right, Dough Boy?”
Dough Boy’s eyes grew large, and the moment he opened his mouth to speak, my bullet made contact with his shoulder. Each squeeze of my trigger had him slamming back in his chair with brute force.
I took my precious time in those kinds of kills. I lodged a bullet in his other shoulder and then walked up to him as he stared at me from his chair stunned. I said nothing as I stood behind his chair and gripped him by his throat, my gun pressed against his temple. He tried to move his hands, and I quickly pointed my gun to shoot at each hand.
I forced that nigga’s head to look at Dame, who sat back with a cold grin on his face. My nails cut into Dough Boy’s throat while I held his trachea.
Dame continued on, “See, this whole week has been nothing but me cleaning up my mistakes, some of those coming from my own house. People I held close to me thought they could play me and steal from me by fuckin’ up a deal with one of my close lords. With that, I dropped them and gave Armando his deal by delivering him his pound of flesh to make these things even. But, no, that was not enough. Was it, amigo?” He glared at Armando.
Armando sat back saying nothing. It was clear he wasn’t sure how to handle the situation, especially since his crew was passed out on the floor behind him from the food and drink they had consumed.
“Sí, that would be correcto, amigo. See, like you, I’ve been listening to the streets, beating truth from niggas and bitches who thought I wasn’t shit, been watching as my crew turned their back on their boss. Watched as you approached my people, my team. But the major problem for me came when you fucked around and came at my right and left,” Dame said, flipping his speech to Spanish, to fuck with dude’s mental, I had to assume.
Bossman moved around the room, speaking with his hands, keeping his game going.
“The other problem was when my left forgot who it is that kept his mouth fed, kept his pockets stacked, kept his dick wet with bitches and even niggas, and who kept him laid up in a prime loft apartment with a Lexus. Yeah, he forgot who kept him laced up and had people in the streets calling him a boss. See, I don’t do well when my dogs become bitches and start getting greedy at the mouth. That greed always eventually kills that dog. Ain’t that right, Dough Boy?” Dame glanced at a shaking Dough Boy, who tried to talk, his mouth opening and closing like a dying fish.
Dame’s eyes narrowed. “I told you multiple times that you don’t twist loyalty.”
With that, my gun slammed down against Dough Boy’s temple. Then I tilted his head back to force his mouth open and slide my barrel in his mouth. A smile played across my lips, my eyes locked on him, and I hit that trigger, ending his life in a blink.
Dough Boy’s teeth automatically bit down hard on my barrel, breaking each row of teeth while my gun kept going. Pulling it out quickly, I pointed it at Armando and stared him blank in the eyes.
“Then my loyalty gets fuckin’ played when you come after my gun? No bueno, mi amigo. You overstepped your bounds the moment you came after Trigga. So what do you have to say to that, amigo?” Dame walked up to where I stood behind a dead Dough Boy’s chair and pulled it out, snatched Dough Boy’s bloody, slumped-over body, and threw it on the floor. Grabbing several cloth napkins, he laid them on the seat of the chair and sat down, as if he wasn’t sitting over a dead body, and turned to face Armando.
Several people at the table gasped from me taking out Dough Boy, and at Dame’s cold personality.
“Let me repeat myself, hermano, mi amigo from the streets, who I helped long ago. You turn your back on me now? Stab me in the back? How about you stab me while I look at you right now? What are you going to do?”
Armando sat back in his chair, his fingers against his temple. He sized Dame up and studied him before holding his hand out. “I say, mi hermano, my product stays yours. I will always keep my respect in your lane. No bullshit ever again. Peace, amigo.”
Dame glanced at the hand and took it, and both men grasped forearms. Then Dame suddenly yanked Armando forward and slammed his fist into his face. The sound of bone cracking echoed around the table, and blood spilled on the chair and table before them.
Amusement had me focused on them and everyone else around the table. I saw Ray-Ray and Gina watching in awe, but quickly dropped their eyes to play submissive and docile.
Big Jake moved to grab the Latin Kings’ leader by his shoulders, standing him up and wiping the blood from his face, while other bosses watched with raised eyebrows.
I noticed the Nigerian Queens’ boss, Anika, still sat quietly sipping her water, watching the whole thing with a smile on her face.
Dame’s voice quickly drew my attention while he stood again looking over the man who dared try him for his territory. “Now we are on even terms, mi amigo. Our deal is back on the table, unless someone is wishing to ante up.”
Anika sat her glass down and cleared her throat. “We will cover whatever losses you had, and double that. You should not have any more problems with Armando. Isn’t that right, love?”
The Nigerian Queens’ leader’s soft, accented voice flowed over everyone like a bitch gripping a nigga’s dick, stroking it, and sucking it off. Every man at the table shifted in his seat, waiting for Armando’s reply.
“Sí, no problems. We’ll keep our original agreement and work in tandem with our Queen at the table.” Armando stumbled back to hold his chair, pushing at Big Jake to step off him.
Dame smiled broadly and walked over to the Queen to take her hand and kiss her knuckles. At that same moment, the other bosses spoke up and added their own deals to the table, and Dame quickly let them know he would accept.
“Dough Boy, go get them contracts ready—Oh yes, I forgot that fast.” Dame laughed.
Sasha spoke up, drawing attention her way. “Big Daddy, I can do that for you.” The instant she felt all eyes on her, she gave a flirty laugh and smile, poking her breasts out to show she was worthy of all attention.
Dame raised an eyebrow and moved her way. His hands reached out to rub her shoulders, brushing her blonde hair to the side. His eyes blanked out a second, indicating that he had every intention of fuckin’ her up later. He brushed his knuckles over the side of her neck. “Why don’t you show my Diamond where I keep my contracts and you both bring them to me right now, baby? How about you go and do that?” he gently responded.
I knew at that moment she was all the way done, that it was on to the next one. In any other situation, she would be laid out on her ass, except that several of the bosses here were women. The Nigerian Queens’ leader didn’t play with women being hit in her presence, so Dame had to play his role carefully.
Sasha quickly stood, glared at Ray-Ray, and headed toward the closed doors.
I gazed at Dame, who was now flirting with Anika. Then I glanced toward Ray-Ray, who pushed away from the table, biting her ruby-colored plump lips, and hurried after Sasha.
As the door closed, I heard a scuffle and saw that Sasha had tripped Ray-Ray. Then Ray-Ray was pushing herself up to slap Sasha across her face with her nails. And the door closed after that. I felt like laughing my ass off.
Turning my attention back to my kill, I grinned wi
de, looking at Dough Boy’s frozen expression.
Something within me was making my fingers itch, but it wasn’t to squeeze a Glock, it was for playing with some pussy.
Ray-Ray
That bitch pushed me. If I wasn’t afraid of what Dame would do, I would have mopped the floor with that ho. But a slap to show the bitch I wasn’t afraid of her had to do for the time being. I bit down on my bottom lip, drew back, and slapped that bitch so hard, my nails drew blood. She stumbled then fell back on her big ass.
I rushed to stand over her with my fist balled. “You want that ass-whupping again, bitch,” I fumed.
She sneered while looking up at me. “Don’t get to thinking you hot shit since that nigga got you on his arm.”
“Shut the fuck, stupid ho! You wanna walk around here mad at me for stupid shit. Maybe if you woulda kept your pussy game tight, you could still be the head bitch you think you are. I’m not about to get fucked up again for you and nobody else. Now, if you want Dame to come out here and ask what’s taking so long, you do that shit, but I swear to God, if he puts his hands on me, I’m putting hands on you and I’ma snatch yo’ ass baldhead this time, bitch.”
I didn’t know who the chick was speaking out of my mouth, but I knew I didn’t want Dame putting his hand on me. I was already two teeth down. I’d fucked up enough as it was. Dame had caught me looking at Trigga a second too long and threatened to cut my eyes out. Then Gina pinched my arm to let me know I had done something else wrong. I was trying not to do anything else to cause Dame to go crazy on me again.
I backed up to let her up off the floor. She still looked at me like she wanted to buck or some shit, and deep down inside, I was wishing she would. I still remembered that ho had tried to cut me. I had a blade with her name on it.
She finally saw the insane look of fearlessness in my eyes and led me to the office Dame had downstairs. Only niggas I ever seen in his upstairs office was Trigga and Big Jake. Well, I saw Dough Boy once too, but that nigga dead now. Being in that room around all that power had me realizing that the situation I’d found myself in was real.
When Trigga popped Dough Boy without flinching and Dame watched on in silent rage like it was nothing, I knew life meant nothing to Dame. None of us meant a fuckin’ thing to him. We were just living, breathing toy soldiers. That was it. I was going to fake this shit until I made it out of this shit.
I kept quiet as she walked ahead of me to get the contracts. I made mental note of what she had done, though, and I would make sure she paid for that shit.
“You better watch your back, bitch,” Sasha stopped and said to me before we walked back into the dining hall.
My eyes roamed over the claw-like marks I had left on her face from the slap. I didn’t like the look in that cold bitch’s eyes. She didn’t scare me, but my mama had warned me about chicks like her. This life was all she knew, and she had built herself up mentally to think that it would be all she would ever know.
I stared in her eyes and just imagined all the shit she’d had to see and go through. She was no longer a regular woman. She was what the streets had made her.
Once we walked back in the room, the bosses were all talking to one another, waiting for Dame to present them with their contractual agreements. Armando was looking at Dame from time to time like he wanted to murk him. He had to be pissed at getting punched in the face and not being able to retaliate in front of the other bosses. He never let on though.
As the night continued, bosses left one by one, in order of importance. Since Armando had tried some treachery shit, he was the first to leave. When the Jamaican boss left, Dame made Sasha go with him to make up for telling him I was off limits.
The last to leave was the boss of the Nigerian Queens, Anika. I was in love with the power she had. Those niggas in that room feared and respected her. Her guards were smart enough not to drink or eat anything offered to them. She was at the top of the food chain right after Dame.
I could tell that, after they saw Dame’s bi-polar antics tonight, not one boss wanted to cross him. That nigga’s mental was fragile, but I could see how taken he was with Anika. I didn’t know why I felt some type of way about that, but I did.
After Dame dismissed the rest of the house, he left me and Gina sitting at the table with Trigga. He told him to watch us while Big Jake walked him and Anika out.
Gina giggled once we were all sitting alone. Dough Boy’s dead body was still in the room with us. Trigga ordered that clean food be brought out. That surprised me. I didn’t know he had that much power. I guess, since Dough Boy was dead, he was now second in command.
“Trigga,” she sang out. “Better call the cleaners too, or else Daddy gone flip ’bout this blood on his floor.”
He laughed low. That made me look at him. I hadn’t ever seen him smile, much less laugh.
“You late.” He smirked as he leaned back in his chair. “Already on that shit.”
He was calm, considering he had just blown somebody’s brains out. I wondered if it had been easy for him to kill my parents.
Before my mouth could catch up to my brain, I blurted out, “You killed my mama?”
The smirk immediately left his face. He sat up and glared at me.
Gina giggled again. “Oh, she thinks she’s gonna kill you, Trigga,” she said, pouring herself some of the champagne Dame was drinking.
When he looked at me, I didn’t flinch. I squared my shoulder and held my head high as I sat in the chair to the right of where Dame had been posted.
“Yeah? You gon’ kill a nigga, huh?” he taunted.
“I’ma get rid of every muthafucka—”
“You ain’t smart enough,” he said, cutting me off. “Too fuckin’ wild, li’l shawty.”
“Fuck you!”
“Don’t fuck Dame’s hoes.”
He was cocky. Thought he was invincible because he could kill niggas without thought. It annoyed me. Thinking about my mama and my daddy made me more determined.
“I can kill you if I wanted.”
He took the gun from his hip and slid it across the table to me. “Do it,” was all he said, no fear in his eyes.
I couldn’t tell if he was serious or not, and I didn’t know what would happen to me if I killed him. I reached for the gun anyway. I picked it up and aimed it right at his head. It was heavier than I thought it would be. My hands started to shake with fear. I’d never held a gun in my hands before.
“You know how to shoot that shit?” He rocked his neck from side to side.
I could hear the bones crack as he did so.
While my mind was on the gun, Trigga had gotten up, moved around the table, taken the gun from me, and snatched a handful of my hair. My head was back, and he had the gun pressed against my left temple.
“You gon’ kill a nigga, li’l shawty?” he asked. “With the safety still on this shit?”
Water rimmed my eyes as they darted to where Gina was.
“Leave her alone, Trigga,” she mumbled.
I could tell she didn’t know whether he was going to fuck me up or not.
My heart was racing because I didn’t know what else to do or say. All I kept seeing was my mama’s cold dead gaze as she lay lifeless with a bullet in her head. I kept hearing my daddy’s hacking, his begging and pleading for my life.
I eyed a steak knife on the table and grabbed for it. Before my hand could wrap around the handle, Trigga had lifted me up from the chair by my hair, twisting my right arm behind my back. I couldn’t catch my breath as he pressed my jaw against the wall.
“You too slow to kill me, li’l shawty.”
His lips were close to my ear. I could feel his warm breath on my neck.
“And you think too much, show a nigga what you finna do before you do it.”
The pressure he had on my arm hurt so bad, I thought he was going to break it.
“Trigga, stop,” Gina whined.
I heard her push her chair back then felt when she tried to pull him o
ff of me. I had already made up in my mind that, when he let me go, I was going to punch him in his shit.
After a few moments of Gina pulling and tugging on him, he let me go. I didn’t know if I was pissed or just embarrassed at the smug look etched on his face.
“You okay, Ray-Ray?” Gina asked.
I nodded, but kept my eyes on the madman holding the gun idly by his side. He didn’t take his eyes from mine as he lay the gun back on the table. He then pulled a knife from behind him and lay that on the table too.
“You stupid as fuck,” he barked. “Gon’ fuck around and get yo’self offed with all that blind rage and shit you got, li’l shawty.”
“Yeah, I’m stupid, but you this nigga’s henchman. He say jump, your faggot ass already know how high.”
“Better a henchman than his come bucket.”
My eyes darted to the knife he had laid on the table.
“Don’t do it, li’l shawty. You ain’t gon’ like the outcome.”
“Ray-Ray . . . Trigga . . . stop. Dame gone fuck all us up if he come in here now.”
“Tell yo’ bitch to stop it.”
“Your mama a bitch,” I retorted.
Gina stepped in between and then jerked me by my arm. “Ray-Ray, no!”
“I ain’t nobody’s bitch.” I thought at that point I was pissed enough to try to stab him with his own knife, but Dame’s laughter in the foyer gave me my sanity back. I straightened up real quick.
“Wrong, li’l shawty.” Trigga strategically hid his weapons on him. “You that nigga’s bitch.”
My eyes narrowed, and teeth grinded. I wanted to say something smart in return, but didn’t have it in me to speak out loud to another man with Dame so close.
“What’s that shit you said about jumping and knowing how high again? I bet you know how low to go too, huh, li’l shawty?” he taunted, walking out of the room.
My eyes stayed trained on the back of his head the whole time. I wished like hell looks could kill because that muthafucka would have been dead.
