by Chunichi
“Yo!” Poppo answered.
I got right to business. “What’s the word on that side?”
“You gotta work on your aim, duke.”
“Fuck you mean, bitch nigga?” I asked, slightly insulted by Poppo’s statement.
“Bitch?”
I could tell, by his tone, Poppa didn’t take much liking to the name-calling, but I wasn’t letting up. “You heard me, nigga. And watch your fucking tone.” I was the fucking boss, so I needed to make sure he recognized that when speaking to me.
“Whatever you say, duke. But, anyway, that nigga still breathing,” Poppo said still with a slight attitude, but he didn’t have the balls to act on his aggravation.
“Hell nah!” I couldn’t believe the shit I was hearing. I never missed a target.
“Yeah, dawg, that shit was on the news. They say that nigga in critical condition. And I hear they got that bitch Sasha locked up.”
“Sasha? Who the fuck is Sasha?” I asked Poppo, the name sounding familiar to me.
“She that bitch that used to roll tight with Jewel. But the crazy shit is, she popped Jewel in the head with a champagne bottle that same night at the club. I hear Jewel in a fucking coma. That bitch, Sasha, picture was on the news and everything, dawg.”
“I can’t believe the shit I am hearing right now. You mean to tell me that bitch stood right beside me and I ain’t even know that was her? Man, I’m fucking slipping. The bitch came over and tried to holla at a nigga; we exchanged numbers and everything. I got the number in my phone right now. No wonder the bitch started to look all sick and pale in the face, like she’d seen a fucking ghost when I told her my fucking name. She real lucky. That bitch has no idea how close she was to catching one of those hot balls along with Touch. One thing fo’ sho’, next time, that bitch won’t slip away from me.” Burning up inside with anger, I ended the call with Poppo and rolled a blunt.
After smoking on some high-grade, I dozed off to sleep.
I was wakened by the constant ringing of my cell phone. I looked at the caller ID. It was my attorney, Natalia Bergetti. Worry hovered over me as I answered the phone. She and I had a hate-love relationship. I hated being brought on charges and loved it when she got my ass off.
She called me by my government name. “Michael?”
“What’s up? I know it gotta be bad news for you to be calling me.”
“Hate to say it, but yes, it’s pretty bad. I just got word from one of my contacts that you’re being charged with attempted murder on Trayvon Davis, AKA Touch. And to make matters worse, they have an eyewitness. She was the original suspect, but I’m sure she worked out a deal with the detectives to lessen her charges, if she agrees to testify against you. You know they have been out for you for some time now, so if they can’t get you on drug charges, they will certainly go for murder. They just want to see you put away a very, very long time.”
“A’ight.” I let out a deep sigh and then added, “Well, I’ll be there to check you in a few days. Let me sort some things out first.” I ended the call.
After I hung up the phone, I wondered if my reign as the Teflon man had run out. One thing I did know for sure though. A nigga wasn’t turning hisself in. Those bitch-ass Virginia Beach cops was gonna have to find me.
I had a fucking instant headache as I processed everything that was going on. I was already awaiting trial on a fucking Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act charge, better known as a RICO charge, and now attempted murder. I was pretty confident my attorney could work out the RICO charge with a plea or something, but a witness to that attempted murder was no joke.
That shit was real! I’m sorry, but a nigga just wasn’t built for a long bid in the penitentiary. Having a guard with horrible breath telling me what to do, being given slop for meals that even an animal wouldn’t eat, beating my dick to a XXL magazine and having my momma and kids coming up for visits with tears in their eyes wasn’t an option for me. I would pay any price for freedom, and believe me, my attorney wasn’t cheap.
Besides, I already knew who their little eyewitness was. It had to be that bitch Sasha. Without an eyewitness, they had no case. So, with that said, I knew what I had to do. It was official. That bitch Sasha had to be dealt with. I knew I would be making a trip to Virginia real soon, but first, I needed to go relieve some tension and get these two monkeys off my back.
I decided to go pay my baby mother a little visit. I hopped in my car and headed to her crib unannounced.
“’S up?” I greeted Corrin, my baby mother, as I walked in on her just in time for dinner. She was cooking fried chicken.
“Use that house key I gave you for emergencies only,” she barked at me putting emphasis on the word emergencies.
“Whatever.” I smacked her on the ass. “Where my kids at?”
“At swimming lessons with my mother, like every Tuesday. If you were an active father, you would know that. And I repeat, that key is for emergencies only.”
I wasn’t trying to hear shit Corrin was saying. I had to give it to her though, she was a true ride-or-die chick. She would rob, stab, or shoot a nigga for me. What she truly wanted was to tie me down, but never that. I wasn’t that kind of nigga.
“Don’t I pay for your rent in this bitch every fucking month?” I snapped back at her.
“Yeah,” she replied, facing me, rolling her eyes.
“If something is broke around here, don’t I fix it ’cause your sorry-ass landlord don’t give a fuck?”
“Yeah.”
“A’ight. Then give me the respect that I deserve, woman,” I said, coming closer in the kitchen.
“Nigga, spend more time with your son and daughter. After you tote them around the mall, get them something to eat and some toys, you ready to bring them home. It’s more to being a daddy than material shit. You care more about popping fucking bottles in the club than being a father. So be a real daddy and start paying my lights, cable, phone and car payment, then I will start showing you more respect around here. And come in here again unannounced like that and I will change the locks.”
That shit she was saying was going in one ear and out the other. Every day was the same shit, but this day I wasn’t in the mood. All I wanted was some weed, pussy, and food, and that’s what I planned on getting.
“Corrin, I don’t need this shit from you today. I already got a headache. Your mouth is going to make it turn into a fucking migraine!” I yelled, confronting her.
I turned her around, pulled down her shorts, popped off her G-string, and bent her over. She smelled like sweet vanilla. I quickly loosened my belt and pulled down my jeans and boxers.
“Hmm, I knew you wanted you some pussy. Hurry up before my mom comes with the kids.”
I smacked her ass, spread her cheeks, and pushed my dick into her wet pussy. That was one of the greatest benefits of having a baby moms—guaranteed pussy anytime I wanted. Yeah, Corrin bitched and complained about every little thing, but she was always willing to open those legs for me, day or night.
Chapter 3
“Soldier Status”
Poppo
After talking to Calico I was fucking vexed. I had stood by that nigga’s side for years, never deceiving him, stealing from him, or trying to shave off his profit. There was no other nigga that had his back like me, and this was the thanks I get? Not wanting to sit and dwell on him and his bullshit, I decided to go to the barbershop and kick it with some of my niggas and fuck with some of the freak bitches that hang up there.
“Damn, nigga! Fuck wrong with you? Coming in the shop like you wanna kill niggas and shit,” Mike, one of the barbers, said as soon as I walked in the place.
My feelings must have been written all over my face. “Ain’t shit, man. Who in the chair next?” I asked, still a little aggravated.
“You.” Mike brushed the hair from the chair, using a cape, then threw it around me.
Once in the chair, and out of earshot of the public, I began to fill Mike in.
>
“Nah, duke, it ain’t no beef shit. I just got off the phone with that nigga Calico, and that nigga be talking to me like I’m some little bitch. He needs to start respecting men. You feel me?”
“Right, right.” Mike didn’t say much. Him, like most niggas, was too afraid to curse Calico.
The more I thought about things it really started to get under my skin. I had to wonder what the fuck this nigga took me for. After everything I’d done for homie, all the fucking wars we’d been through and I had this nigga back, this nigga was still talking to me like I was some little nothing-ass nigga. I’d been past the toy soldier status. A nigga had his wings now, but Calico couldn’t see it. But whether he chose to see it or not, I knew I wasn’t gonna be his “gofer” for too much longer. It was definitely time for change.
Although I’d never crossed Calico before, I was really considering it. I was making just enough money to get by working with him. It was time for me to make a come-up. I figured the next time that nigga gave me some shit to deliver, or some money to collect, I was gonna take that shit and flip and make a little money off of it, then pay him. As long as I did that shit quickly, he would never know the difference. After a few flips, I would have enough money on my own to start buying some weight.
Chapter 4
“Living Nightmare”
Jewel
My eyes opened suddenly as I was jolted out of my sleep from the nightmare that kept playing over and over in my head. I waited for my eyes to focus. Slightly disoriented, I could hear a constant beeping and faint voices in the background as well. I looked around, slowly focusing my eyes, and realized I was in a hospital.
That’s when the realization hit me that I hadn’t been dreaming at all. There really was an accident. I felt like I was beginning to live out my nightmare. I started to panic. Had I been shot? Where is Touch? I touched my head and screamed out in pain. Oh my God! I was shot in the head! Am I retarded? Can I walk? I need a mirror! Oh my God! Please, where’s the mirror? I felt like I was going crazy. I looked around the room frantically for a mirror. I couldn’t move due to all the different tubes that were attached to me, so I called for help.
“Help me! Please help me!” I began to yell out for a nurse.
Seconds later a nurse rushed in. “Hi, Miss Diaz. Glad to see you up and alert. I’m Misty, and I’ll be your nurse today. Is everything okay?” she asked calmly.
“No. What happen to my head? Was I shot? I need to see a mirror,” I said, still in a panic. Months earlier I’d taken a nasty blow to the head, and it was not nice. I was all swollen and black and blue for days. I refused to go through that again.
“Just calm down, Miss Diaz. You were not shot. You were hit in the head with a bottle. You have been in a coma for two days,” Nurse Misty explained.
I asked the next most important question. “What about my boyfriend, Trayvon Davis? Where is he?”
“Your boyfriend isn’t doing as well as you are. He’s in our intensive care unit.”
“Oh God! This can’t be happening,” I said, realizing again my nightmare was reality. “He was shot, wasn’t he?”
“Yes, he was. He was shot in the stomach, and the bullet exited through his back, damaging quite a few vital organs in the process. He’s currently in critical condition.”
As I listened to the nurse and registered what she was saying, my chest began to tighten, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. “I think I’m gonna pass out,” I said to her between pants, and the slow, constant, beeping sounds in the background picked up in pace.
Misty tried to coach me back to a normal breathing pattern. “You’re panicking. Just relax and take some deep breaths.”
“I have to see him, please,” I begged the nurse.
“I’ll see what we can do. Just give me a few minutes to talk with the doctor.” Misty then exited the room.
I watched as she walked out. Misty was a young nurse, a nice-looking black girl, dressed in Baby Phat scrubs, with a big phat ass to match. I’m usually good at judging character, and she looked liked one of those get-money chicks. With that in mind, I needed to keep her far from my man.
“Ouch!” A streaking pain ran through my head, diverting my attention back to my injury.
I couldn’t believe what was going on. I couldn’t understand how we went from a night of celebrating the New Year, to Touch being shot and me in a coma. The more I played that night over and over in my head, the more the pieces of the puzzle began to come together. Before long I’d recapped the entire night in my head, and I knew exactly what had gone down. I was sure Calico had shot Touch, and Sasha had hit me in the head. Now that I knew the deal, I knew exactly what I had to do. Calico and Sasha had to pay.
Misty returned to the room with a wheelchair. “Miss Diaz?”
“Yes?”
“I’m gonna take you to see Mr. Davis. The doctor wanted you to wait until he was able to come in and do a quick examination, but I convinced him to let me go ahead and take you to see your boo.”
We both laughed at her usage of the word boo.
“Thanks, girl,” I said to Misty as though we were longtime friends. “I really appreciate it.”
“Oh, trust me, I understand. I was in your place once. Me and my man were in a car accident, and when I came to, all I wanted to do was see him. So I feel your pain.” Misty parked the chair next to my bed and began to prepare me for my trip.
My opinion suddenly changed about her. Instead of looking at her as another greedy street-bitch, I actually saw her as a pretty cool female. She helped me out of bed, and minutes later, I was comfortable in the wheelchair.
Misty swept me off to Touch’s room. As we entered the room, I instantly felt the same tightness I’d felt in my chest earlier, and again, I began to struggle to breathe. The sight of a lifeless Touch with tubes coming from every direction and constant beeps of the monitor and inflation of the breathing machine was just too overwhelming for me.
“Why are there so many tubes? What’s going on?” I asked Misty between my tears and pants.
Misty rolled me right next to Touch’s bed, and I grabbed his hand as she explained his current state and what the different tubes were for. My heart literally ached as I watched the love of my life lay before me unconscious.
“Just leave me here,” I said to Misty. “I want to spend some time with him alone.”
“No problem, but I must tell you. Detectives have been up here several times to speak with you and Mr. Davis.
They asked that we give them a call when you all regain consciousness.”
“I’m really not interested in speaking to no DT right now, or ever for that matter.” I kissed my teeth and rolled my eyes simultaneously.
“Well, I’m not going to call them, but I just wanted to make you aware.” Misty smiled.
“Thank you so much. You are so understanding. I owe you.” I smiled back and then diverted my attention to Touch.
“I love you so much, baby.” I caressed his hand as I spoke to him. “I know you can make it out of this. Come on, Touch. I need you here. Your twin girls need you here. Too many people are depending on you, baby.” I knew Touch loved his daughters with all his heart, and if anyone could inspire him to fight, it would definitely be them.
I laid my head beside him on the bed. I could still smell the fresh scent of his Vera Wang cologne. “I love you, Touch,” I constantly whispered to him until I dozed off to sleep.
The next day I was discharged from the hospital with enough pain pills to sedate a horse. I had fifteen staples straight down the center of the back of my head. When I got home, all I could think about was Touch. After calling his mother, situating things at home, and taking a much-needed shower, I got in my car and headed back to the hospital, no more than two hours after I’d left. That’s where I spent each day—by Touch’s side—until he regained consciousness.
Chapter 5
“Sad Reality”
Touch
“Aaaahhh fuck!” My bo
dy ached with so much pain, and it throbbed as though I’d been hit by a fucking bus. I slowly opened my eyes and struggled to figure out where I was.
I heard a familiar voice say, “Touch, baby,” and felt a gentle touch on the side of my face.
I turned to my left side to see Jewel sitting next to me. “What?” I struggled to talk but noticed something was preventing me.
“No, no, baby, don’t try to talk,” Jewel said to me. “There’s a tube in your mouth.” She then called for the nurse.
I noticed I felt extremely thirsty, as I took the time to examine my body and things started to register. It seemed like I had tubes coming from every hole in my body. I had tubes coming from my mouth, arm, and even my dick.
Shit was really starting to sink in. I remembered getting shot at the club. Although I was shot in a matter of seconds, the events seemed to have occurred in slow motion. I remembered seeing Calico dip in his waist and me thinking, This nigga got a fucking gun, knowing he was going to shoot me. My first instinct was to push Jewel to the floor to get her out of danger. The last thing I remembered was locking eyes with her, and then feeling extreme pain to my stomach. And from the way things were looking from that hospital bed, Calico had really fucked me up. But the one mistake that bitch nigga made was to leave me breathing.
Minutes later, the nurse walked in. After checking my vitals and a quick exam, she removed my breathing tube from my mouth. My first request was water. After quenching the severest case of cotton mouth a nigga could ever experience, I began to ask the thousand questions that had been plaguing my mind.
“How many times was I shot?” I forced out the first question.
“Once,” Jewel answered right away.
