Protect Me From My Friends

by Marcellus Allen

  “Who dat?” He turned around, squinting into the dark.

  “It's me, O-dawg.” I stretched my arms in the air in a friendly gesture. I know my eyes didn't match my tone or body energy. Good thing he couldn't see them. He took of without saying a world like I expected him too. They're all in on it.

  He ran 'cause he already knew what time it was. That nigga knew exactly why we were there. We took off after him, running across the street with them hammers out. His dumb ass ran up the stairs, thinking he could make it inside before the shellz could catch 'em. It never failed.

  Every time we caught a fuck nigga outside his house or in front of a business, they tried to run inside. It never failed just like it never worked. I know the graveyard is filled with dumb muthafuckaz thinking they could fly through a door before a bullet could.

  Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

  I let the hot shit fly through his back just as he opened the door. Almost made it. The night lit up with the flames from my barrel and it sounded like thunder was ripping through the sky.

  Boom! Boom!

  I took his legs out with the last shots, forcing him to crumble right in the doorway. Half of his body was on the porch while the rest of him was in the house.

  “Flex! Flex! They shot me!” je cried out like the bitch nigga that he was.

  We rushed up the stairs and was standing over him before he could even drag himself all the way in. I stood over him with the pistol aimed right at his face, looking like the grim reaper himself. He stared right in my eyes, searching for some compassion while pleading at the same time.

  “Where Ralo at?” I asked.

  “Aww, I don't know! Flex!” he moaned and screamed out.

  Boom! Boom! Boom!

  Somebody got to bustin' at us. The bullets crashed into the door, just barley missing my head. I jumped out the house back on to the porch. “Who the fuck is y'all niggaz! Huh?” the nigga yelled at us then started shooting again.

  Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

  “It's O-dawg and nem!” Jermaine snitched, while tryna crawl his way all the way in the house. I gave my goonz the nod, then went to work.

  Boom! Boom!

  One shot hit the lil' nigga in the back of his head and the other found a home in his back. He slumped forward, face kissing the floor and didn't move again. Then the goonz rushed in.

  Boca! Boca! Boca! Boca! Boom! Boom! Boc! Boc!

  I walked in last just in time to watch Flex's body do the smurda dance before he crumbled to the floor. I looked to my left, right at Ruger just to make sure he had participated in the murder. His gun was smokin' just like everybody else's was.

  My head slightly confirming his gangsta. He nodded back. When two gangstaz were on the same page, no words needed to be uttered. He had proved his gangsta with no hesitation.

  “What the hell going—”

  Boca! Boca! Boca!

  I whipped my head around to see an old man clutching his stomach, eyes wide with surprise and fear as he slid down the stairs. It seemed like it took forever for that old nigga to hit the last step.

  We all looked at Twin, who was the one who had popped him. I expected to see some remorse from him. He had just killed somebody's grandfather, right or wrong. He stared through me for a split second, then refocused.

  Boca! Boca!

  He pumped two more shots through his body just for just to make himself feel more savage. He was willing to go all out for his dead brother with no exceptions and with no regard for any other human life, not even his own. We all turned our heads toward upstairs at the same time. Footsteps could clearly be heard running around.

  “Me and Phatz gon' check it out. Y'all search the rest of the spot.” I nodded to Phatz, then stepped over grandpa's body.

  We crept slowly up the stairs, gunz out ready to crush anything that was moving. Once we made it up there, it was real clear where the sounds had come from. There were only two rooms up there and only one door was closed. Me and Phatz nodded at each other, then headed towards the room with our heats right at it. I opened the door and instantly knew we were in some lil' girl’s room.

  It was pink everywhere and all types of teenager shit throughout the room. The sounds of somebody tryna muffle a cry could be heard coming from the closet. I looked at Phatz and shook my head in a sorrowful gesture.

  Please don't be in there. I tried to will my thoughts into reality as we approached the door. When I opened it, I found out my will wouldn't be done. Staring right at us was a lil' girl that couldn't be more that twelve or thirteen years old.

  She had both of her hands wrapped around her mouth. Her eyes were filled with fear. She had heard the shots and knew what we were there to do. I aimed the pistol right at her forehead, fully prepared to take her life.

  As my finger began to pull back on the trigga, all I could think about was my unborn daughter that was inside of Tamia. I let the gun hang. I couldn't do it. For some weird ass reason, I just couldn't snatch her soul from her.

  “We're not wearing masks. She can identify us, blood.” Phatz words pierced through me. His words started playing devil’s advocate with my conscience.

  “You never saw us, right?” I growled at her. She nodded real fast like her life depended on it. It did. I watched the crocodile tears drip down her face and thought of my daughter. I asked God to have mercy on my daughter’s soul. I had just spared one of his angels. I closed the closet and left.

  Chapter 3

  O-dawg

  February 21st

  I opened my eyes with the most sickening feeling in my stomach. The shit felt worse than when I woke up that first morning in the county fighting that murder. I thought there’d be nothin' was worse than that. For a split second, I hoped against hope that all this shit was just a bad dream. But the sickness in my stomach said otherwise and the single tear that involuntarily slid down my face confirmed it.

  My soul felt empty. My heart felt pain. The blood in my body was the same blood that used to pump through Gotti's veins and it screamed for vengeance. Gotti's really dead.

  “Good morning, daddy.”

  She was all smiles. I felt guilty for waking up to Tamia in the house that I’d built with Olay. And for getting ready to raise another child in the house that belonged to Mar-Mar. Seeing her made me think of Olay. I miss my bitch, I thought, then shook that soft shit off as I remembered her treachery.

  “What's up, baby? You’re lookin' real pretty with yo’ pregnant ass.”

  “Thank you,” she responded, cheesing even harder now. “I just wanted to bring my man some breakfast in bed to start yo’ day off right.” She handed the food over and sat down next to me. “Are you okay, baby?” she asked, then rubbed my face.

  “Yeah, I'm good. All this shit comes with the game. I'm used to it.” The lies rolled off my tongue with ease. She twisted her neck giving me the “nigga please” look while tryna stare through my soul.

  “Then how come you were in here crying?”

  Damn, she caught me. I gritted my teeth tryna calm my embarrassment. Real street niggaz hate to shed even one fuckin' tear, but nothin' was worse than having your bitch catch you. It seemed like all the tough guy shit went out the window after that. Bitches be like, “Nigga don't act like I ain't catch you cryin' before”. That shit ain't coo'.

  I sucked my teeth. “Nigga, I wasn't cryin'. You must of lost yo’ damn mind, girl. I yawned and one lil’ tear came out. That don't qualify as cryin'. Fuck that! She gave me that look again. “It's okay to cry, Marshawn. It means you’re human.”

  I started eating the bacon and eggs she made me, chewing real slow. I was done with that corny ass conversation. I wasn't about to admit to a damn thing. My mind went back to avenging my relative at all cost.

  There wasn't nothing in the world more important to me than that. I couldn't wait to put a bullet through bitch ass Burnside's head. I planned on watching him die real slow. I was gone be the one to do it, no exceptions.

  “Marshawn, are we
gonna stay in this house or go back to Vancouver?” Tamia asked, interrupting my murderous thoughts.

  I really hadn't gave it too much thought, but apparently she had. Knowing her, she was gone make the conversation way deeper than it needed to be.

  “I don't know, baby. What you wanna do?” I asked as I fed into her.

  She bit into her bottom lip and that's when I knew shit was getting deep. She always did that whenever she prepared herself for a debate.

  “I like this house. It's hella big and all, but it makes me think about that bitch every time I look around,” she confessed.

  “That's 'cause she decorated everything in this bitch. All you gotta do is re-decorate everything and you'll never think about her again.”

  “It's not just that, Marshawn. I want my own house. When you bought this place, it was for her and your son. I want a place that's only for me and your daughter, not the last bitches hand-me-down.” I had to exhale real deep and slow before I cussed this pregnant bitch out. I had bigger problems to deal with than a stupid ass house.

  “My cousin just got killed and you in here worried about some stupid ass house? Don't turn into no nagging ass bitch, Tamia, fo' real. I just got rid of one and I'll be damned if I get stuck with another one. Do you not understand that I'm in here hurting? I'm in the middle of a war, Tamia! A real one! With my muthafuckin' friends! Do you know how that feels? Huh?” I screamed at her.

  She shook her head with a look of guilt on her face. Tears started creeping down her face outta nowhere, pissing me the hell off. How the hell she gone start crying when she the one in the wrong? Pregnant bitches!

  “I'm sorry, daddy,” she whined.

  What the fuck? The pregnancy was really fuckin' up her emotions. I didn't know what to do but felt bad for my bitch. I pulled her into me for a deep hug and kissed her on the forehead.

  “It's a’ight, baby. I know my daughter is in there driving you crazy.”

  “I'm horny.”

  Now I was really thrown off balance. “Now you want some dick? What kinda bridezilla shit you on?”

  She busted out laughing, then stood up, taking off her robe. She was ass naked with her huge swollen titties just begging to be sucked. She gave me a sexy devilish grin, then dropped to her knees. I laid back and let her pull my shorts down to do her thang.

  The moment my meat went in her mouth, I forgot all about my current problems. That's what great head does to you. It just sucks away all your life's problems for the next ten minutes or so. I loved getting some good head.

  ***

  Burnside

  I inhaled the weed real deep, then passed the backwood to Beast. I looked around at my new ring of honor and felt more than confidant that we would be the last mob standing. We were all certified killaz and wanted that bitch niggaz O-dawg head on a mantel.

  I locked eyes with Ralo and felt the heat coming from his soul. He didn't give a fuck about this meeting or none of that. He just wanted to kill. Those fake Mob niggaz killed his brothers and grandpa that last night, so he was on some World War 3 shit.

  I looked at Premo, Head, and Killah and got to thinking about not only how far we had come, but how we had got there in the first place. I tilted my head back at the ceiling and hoped Joe could see us, see the line we were pushin' for him. I remembered the day that changed my life so vividly like it had happened yesterday. I closed my eyes reminiscing.

  “Fuck, blood. I ain't tryna go in there and do this shit,” I complained to Beast and Premo. We were sitting in my Camaro parked right in front of Joe's and Falcon's spot.

  I stared at the house with regret and contempt. It just looked dead. Like nobody had ever lived inside that bitch. Damn, Joe. Who caught you slippin'? I thought as I opened the door.

  “I know, son, but we gotta get that shit,” Beast replied.

  “Word is bond,” Premo concurred

  I nodded real slow, then hopped out the whip. The sky was grey, just waiting to cry on us. It was an ugly ass day that matched our moods to the T. I snatched the crime scene tape down and felt the anger began to replace the sorrow.

  We walked in like we owned the place with our gunz drawn just in case. I doubted anybody was in the spot, but there was always a chance that somebody was on the same mission that we were on. The streets were full of hyena muthafuckaz, straight vultures.

  I aimed the draco as I walked on some Call of Duty type of shit. I was dyin' to kill a nigga. I had to. We made it to the bedroom undisturbed. Everything looked in place like they had just walked out. But I knew the murders had took place in the den where I tried to avoid looking.

  “I'll grab the bag. Y'all check for any other places,” I told my relatives.

  They nodded, then walked out. Nobody wanted to see what was waiting in the rest of the house, but somebody had to. I crouched down by the bed and lifted the carpet up right where Joe had shown me. I typed in the code to the safe and opened it up reluctantly. It was deeper and wider than I had expected.

  “Yo, bring me a bag in here!” I yelled out.

  I started piling the money up on the floor as fast as I could. I wanted to get the fuck outta there ASAP. I could feel his presence, the ghost of my nigga. “I'ma make 'em play for what they did to you, blood!” I spoke to his spirit.

  “I found this in the closet.” Beast tossed a duffle bag at me.

  I ain't say shit to him, just turned around, and started stuffing the money in the bag. I was ready to kill anything at this fuckin' moment. My concentration was broke a few minutes later when the door bell went off. What the fuck!

  I hurried up, stuffing the rest of the money in the duffle bag. The bell went off again. I wasn't spooked at all 'cause I didn't plan on going to jail. Neither was I handing the money over to no fuckin' body. I walked out with the bag slung over my shoulder and the draco aimed at the door. Beast and Premo were standing on both sides of the door with their gunz ready to fire.

  “It's some light-skinned nigga and a bitch,” Beast whispered.

  I looked through the peephole and instantly recognized both of them. They were the neighbors and the bitch was hella coo' with Falcon. I just hoped that they weren't on no nosey white people shit 'cause they probably wouldn't make it out alive.

  “They're the neighbors, blood,” I growled, then yanked the door open.

  They stood there looking stupid ass fuck. Fear spread across their faces as they stared at the machine pistol.

  “Come on in,” I said, inviting them in with a smirk on my face that was reserved for the devil.

  “We ain't come over here for no problems,” the nigga named Red said with his hands raised in the air.

  “Well, now you got them. Step inside or die on the porch, your choice.”

  They didn't hesitate to rush inside the spot. When I closed the door and they looked my relatives in the eyes, they knew they were in too deep at that point. It was written all over their faces.

  “I really hope y'all ain't on no white people nosey shit 'cause niggaz don't get down like that.”

  “Hell naw! We just got some info that we think y'all might want,” Red claimed.

  I looked at my relatives to make sure they were hearing the same shit that I was. They screwed their faces, with confusion and probably excitement, too.

  “So y'all came over here to give me some info that y'all think I might want? You really expect me to believe that shit?”

  Red nodded at me, then looked at Crystal. She looked like she had already pissed on herself and didn't know what else to do. They were really pissing me the fuck off and making my trigga finger itch. Just when I was getting ready to explode, she finally spoke up. “I saw who killed my friend and your cousin.”

  It felt like all the air had left the room. My heart dropped, then my anger rose. How the fuck could she see it unless she was in on it?

  I pointed the instrument of death at her. “How the fuck is that possible? Unless you was in here when it happened?” I growled.

  Red jumped in
front of her to shield her body from the bullets that he knew I was ready to send. I guess his captain save-a-hoe ass didn't understand that AK bullets go through everything, including humans.

  “Ain't no need for all of that, bro. We're here to help. My girl saw some shit that you really wanna know. But if you don't wanna hear it, we can leave,” he said like that was really an option.

  “She better start speaking then,” I spat back full of rage.

  He moved to the side and I stared her right in the eyes. If she had never witnessed the devil in person before, then she had now. It wasn't a nigga in Northeast that was more dangerous than me. I killed niggaz for fun.

  “I wasn't in here when it happen, but I saw who walked outta the house after the gun shots,” she pleaded her case.

  “Who? Let's hear it.”

  “O-dawg and them,” she barley whispered.

  My body tensed up as my eyes got smaller. The devil in me was begging to be released so he could feast on this lying ass bitch. I stood there frozen in time for ten seconds, then pointed the heat right at her nigga’s big ass head. I was gon' kill his hoe ass first for putting her up to it. Then we was gonna purge the bitch for being gullible.

  “You think this shit is a game, nigga? You on some catfish type of shit? Those piru bitches pay you or was it the sixties?” I roared.

  As soon as the words left his mouth, I was gonna push his shit back. No if's and's or buts about it. The disrespect that came outta her mouth was enough to seal their fates. Crystal screamed and Red put his hands back up.

  “Yo, son. Let's hear 'em out,” Beast stepped up pushing my gun to the side.

  “Hear 'em out? Nigga, what? I'm killin' this nigga and this bitch, period. Somebody paid them to tell us this shit and I wanna know who. What? You really think the homies would kill Joe? Huh? Them niggaz was just as sick as we was at the funeral!” I pleaded my case.

  From the expression on my relatives’ faces, I was pleading my case on death ears. Them niggaz were all ears and ready to believe that anybody had killed our family member. I had to put a stop to this shit ASAP. I lifted the draco back up with every intention in the world to chew that bitch’s face off.