Protect Me From My Friends

by Marcellus Allen

  “I told you, Blood,” Tre said.

  I looked at him tryna figure out what the fuck he was talking about. But before I could speak on it, Braze spoke up. That you did.” He turned to face Tre, then focused back on me. “He said you'd come alone or with one other person at the max. I don't know how smart that is, but I can definitely respect it. But let's get down to business now.”

  “Let's do that.” I didn't have time for small talk.

  “First off, I want O-dawg dead for killin' my brother for no reason. My people tell me that you weren't there when the murders happened. Is that right?” he asked, then tried to stare through me.

  “Naw, that was him and Boobie that did that.”

  He nodded. “I needa be the one to snatch his soul from him. I want you to bring him to me.”

  “Can't do it, I'm killin' him on sight. But if I get the drop ahead of time, I'll let you ryde out with me.”

  “Now the other part of business. I've heard that you've been lookin' for a plug that don't dry up. Me and the homies back home can supply that for a fair price. But O-dawg has to die, point blank period,” he demanded. I couldn't help but smirk at that.

  “Funny, somebody just offered me the same deal not to long ago,” I said.

  “Were not Tony and his homies, first off. Second, his punk ass was never gonna step foot back in Portland until O-dawg was dead. I'm staying here until everybody is dead. And as soon as you agree, then the work will be on its way.”

  I couldn't believe what I was hearing. This was the shit I needed to lock the city down. How he know about Tony and his plans? I shook that thought outta my head immediately 'cause it didn't matter.

  “What's the plan if I didn't agree?” I just had to hear him say it.

  “It was gon' be alotta Bompton pirus out here shootin' at anything and everything.” He didn't hesitate or even blink an eye. I smiled.

  “So that means Tre ain't gon' need the two brickz in my trunk then? Since you the new plug? Let's get this money.”

  “He's still gon' need 'em. I'm only dealing with you on the business tip.” He finally cracked a smile as we shook hands.

  We chopped it up for another hour about the future and nothing could've made me smile more than the plans we had made. It was at that moment that I really knew in my heart I was destined for this shit. Too many things had aligned perfectly by the game gods for this not to be my destiny.

  As I walked through the bar making my way to the whip, I promised myself nothing was gonna stop me. I was fully prepared to kill whoever needed to die and willing to get killed behind this shit. I was mentally on top of the world as I stepped out into the cold night air. My quest for greatness caused me to slip up a lil' bit which can easily get you killed in these streetz.

  I froze up as I watched the gunman hop out his car from across the street. Seeing him with a gun outta all people really surprised the shit outta me. Then the shots came.

  Chapter 7

  O-dawg

  “She said he still in there, but he been in there for a minute,” Ruger told me after reading his text message that had just came through. Fifteen minutes earlier, we were sitting in the studio working on a new song to heat the streets up. He'd been begging me all week to get back to the music and give the people what they want.

  After Gotti's funeral, shit just wasn't the same. I hadn't felt like doing shit except smoking and day dreaming about killing those niggaz. Ruger told me the best way to ease the pain was to write about it. And that's exactly what I was doing when his phone went off with the best news of my life. We broke up outta there with murder on our minds and revenge in our hearts.

  “A’ight, we gotta find a coo' place to camp out at until he comes out. I wanna hit the block a few times to see if we can spot his whip, but I don't wanna fuck around and miss 'em,” I said.

  “Let's call the homies and see if they can get here fast enough,” he suggested.

  I nodded, then pulled my phone out. As soon as I started calling Bleed, Ruger spoke the words I didn't wanna hear. “There he go right there,” he whispered excitedly.

  I felt a wave of anxiety rush through my body as I stared at my newest arch enemy. He walked out with a stupid ass grin on his face like he knew something nobody else did. My anger intensified the longer I looked at his traitor ass.

  “This nigga killed Gotti,” Ruger growled, while gripping his heat even tighter.

  “I know. We gotta wait until—” My words were cut short when he jumped out the car.

  I watched him walk across the street with a vengeance. Burnside must have had spider senses 'cause he instantly looked in our direction right at Ruger. I saw his face go from surprise to scared in a split second. I bounced the moment Ruger raised his pistol.

  Boc! Boc! Boc! Boc! Boc!

  Burnside stumbled back into the wall as everybody posted up outside started screaming, while tryna dodge the bullets. A car sped by right in front of Ruger, damn near runnin' him over. That's all the time Burnside needed. He didn't hesitate to yank out two pistols from his hoody and get it poppin'.

  Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boc! Boc! Boc!

  “Is that you, Ruger!” he taunted, while moving side to side.

  I got to bustin' my thang, tryna knock his head from his shoulders. He kept moving down the street ,rotating his aim between the two of us.

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

  It was bullets flying every direction and we were just pinning him down when shots started coming our way from behind us.

  Blocka! Blocka! Blocka! Boc! Boc!

  We turned around letting the two random niggaz have it. My adrenaline was really pumping now. I got a good look at their faces and instantly recognized the nigga Tre. What the fuck?

  I didn't let my confusion override my determination to live though. Ruger stayed side by side with me, bustin' his gun with no fear. We had three niggaz clappin' at us and he let his nutz hang instead of tuckin' his tail like most niggaz.

  The short bald nigga kept walking up on me, shootin' like he didn't care if he got hit as long as I died first. The pure hate was all over his face, the determination to kill his food personally.

  Boom! Boom! Boom! Boc! Boc! Bloc! Bloc! Bloc!

  I gave him what he wanted. My full attention went to him as I tried with all my might to shoot him dead in his face. His gun went empty, then he had no choice but to retreat.

  “Naw, nigga! Don't run!” I yelled, while tryna knock his spinal cord out.

  We made it back to the car with the shots coming slower and far in between. The sirens sounded too close for comfort. We skirted up outta there.

  “Fuck, blood!” I pounded the glove box in anger. “Who the fuck was that short nigga? He was tryna end me!” I yelled, looking out the back window for the boyz.

  “Did you see Tre?” he asked way too calmly.

  “I saw his bitch ass! He's dead now!”

  “We track him down and we'll get the other nigga too.”

  I nodded in frustration. All I could do was bite my lip and try to place the short niggaz’ face. I couldn't, but it did seem familiar.

  ***

  March 2nd

  The next day, I stayed in the house with Tamia the whole day. Of course I held a meeting in my basement, breaking down everything that happened the night before. Tre was a dead man walking and the short nigga that was hanging with him, too. I told Twin I wanted him to focus all of his attention on him and make it fast.

  I had court the next day for the murder case. I didn't wanna give those crackerz the satisfaction of catching me fuckin' up the day before. Shit, even that failed hit on Burnside had made the news 'cause some old white lady got hit in the leg. I decided to stay in and convince Tamia that everything was going to be Gucci.

  Friday morning came and we were three cars deep, headed to the court house. Tamia kept begging me to let her come to court so she could support me. I eventually gave in and let her come. The only problem was she was too big t
o be comfortable in the 'Rati. So we rode in her Range Rover with Phatz behind the wheel.

  Bleed and Ruger was in the car in front of us while Twin followed right behind. This was my first time moving around without my vest on. I felt exposed and vulnerable, especially without the protection of my Maserati. I gripped the Mac-11 even tighter as we pulled up to the red light. Tamia saw it and started massaging my shoulder.

  “It's gone be okay, daddy,” she said.

  “I should of left yo’ ass at home fo' real.” I turned from her to stare out the window.

  Nothing looked suspicious, so I turned my attention to Phatz. “Yo, finish telling me about this new click, the Goonies or whatever the fuck they call themselves.”

  They was telling me about the clowns the day before, but I had more important shit to handle.

  “They some lil' fuck niggaz out the North that's tryna claim the Pier Parks as their strong hold.”

  Aww, shit! They must be ready to die then,” I growled. The Pier Parks were multiple apartments that were connected together, creating a nice-sized complex. I had some niggaz in there that bought all of their weight from me. They even rented out a spot or two every now and then so my lil' niggaz could trap outta it. So anybody tryna knock off my associates and lay claim to the complexes, were in direct violation with me.

  “Yeah, shawdy. Niggaz been being real disrespectful all of a sudden. We needa just say fuck it and go to war with everybody before everybody take us,” he spat. It already seem that way.

  I rubbed Tamia's stomach, while thinking over what Twin was spittin' at me. It was definitely time to make the whole town mob up or shut up, 'cause niggaz was feeling brave all of a sudden. I closed my eyes tryna block out the pain that hit me outta nowhere. My wounds over Gotti's death were fresh and hurt to the core.

  Do it for Gotti and Boobie. I bit down on my lip as I opened my eyes. Tamia was staring right at me with tears in her eyes. She felt where a nigga was coming from. She knew my pain. “We gon' speak on it tonight,” I finally responded as we pulled up to the courthouse.

  We all made our way in without any problems, but that was expected. Wasn't no nigga in the state of Oregon about to catch nobody at the courthouse. My only concern was the drive there and back. Now that there could easily turn into a homicide scene if niggaz were really on their shit.

  The courtroom was empty except for a few of the D.A.'s flunkies and my legal team. Those Gutta Squad niggaz were hangin' out together in the afterlife, so they couldn't attend like the last time. I looked around for any of the dead niggaz’ relatives, but there was none. Either they considered this hearing irrelevant or they were just scared of me. Probably both.

  “I think we got a real good chance of winning this,” my lawyer whispered in my ear.

  Yeah right, I thought. Wasn't no way the judge was throwing the case out for lack of evidence. Shit like that didn't happen in Portland. The state was known for taking a nigga to trial with next to nothing. But I still kept a lil' hope alive. Niggaz better hope these crackerz don't let me go. I'ma fuck the town up. I had to crack a smile at the thought. “All rise!” the bailiff announced.

  I rose then sat back down. Over the next ten minutes, I just sat there listening to my lawyer explain why my case was too weak to proceed to trial. It sounded good, but I knew the judge wasn't gonna go for it. Bitch ass nigga.

  A few minutes later, the hoe ass gang task officers walked in with their top detectives. The haters, Detective Rogers and Freeman both smiled at me before sitting down. Them house niggaz really knew how to make my blood boil. I'ma raise the crime rate on yo bitch ass. I smiled back then leaned back like a real nigga and listened to the fag ass prosecutor.

  Right when my lawyer started his rebuttal. the door flew open and what I saw made my heart skip a beat. It felt like all the air left the room. Burnside walked in with his shoulder in a sling and a cocky smirk on his face. Beast, Premo, Head and Killah walked in right after him. My niggaz instantly stood up ready for battle.

  I saw the bailiffs tense up, just itching to shoot their lil' weak ass pistols. I looked at Tamia and she looked like she was ready to give birth in that moment. I knew I shoulda left her ass. I shook my head at my goonz for them to fall back. Bad as I wanted to start throwin' bows, I knew it woulda cost me. Shit, the judge woulda probably revoked my bail and throw my black ass in jail. Everybody took their seats in peace and I turned back around to the bullshit.

  “So the main witness is dead and there are no suspects or links to the defendant, right?” the judged asked.

  “That's correct, your honor,” the D.A. answered.

  “Do you have any other witnesses?”

  “No, your honor. We don't.”

  “So all the state has is Mr. Anderson's own testimony?” Now the judge sounded appalled.

  “Well, judge. We have a dead body lying next to the defendant who admits to killing him. The ballistics confirms that Mr. Anderson's gun did in fact kill Mr. Johnson.” The D.A twisted the story for his on benefit.

  “That's correct, but the defendant is claiming self defense and all the evidence seems to back up his story.”

  I stopped listening at that point. I couldn't focus on no legal shit with Gotti's killers sittin' right behind me. I turned around and stared right through Burnside's eyes. He smirked at me. I tapped my shoulder to make fun of the sling we had put him in. Him and his niggaz thought it was real funny. It took everything in me to stay calm. Take a deep breath. I know what I'm doing.

  “I'm dismissing the case with prejudice. Go find another witness and gather some evidence, then we can try it again.” The judge banged his gavel then walked out.

  “The case is over, Marshawn. What'd I tell you?” my lawyer said all excited, while he squeezed my shoulder.

  “That's why you’re the best and get paid the big bucks.” I was all smiles as I stood and shook his hand.

  Tamia rushed over and hugged the shit outta me, then kept kissing me all over the face. I stared right at the D.A. who couldn't hide his anger if he wanted to. Seeing his look of defeat, made me feel like the most powerful person in Portland. Shit, I probably am. He screwed his face up, then went to go gossip about me with his gang task flunkies.

  “You know they’re going to really have it out for you now, right? They'll try and build a new case against you,” my lawyer said.

  “That's why I keep you on retainer.”

  We talked for another minute, then me and my niggaz blew that joint. We were all smiles and G-hugs in those crackerz’ faces as we exited the room, but our victory lap was cut short as soon as we made it to the hallway. Those suckaz were posted right by the elevators.

  “My nigga Ruger done finally jumped off the porch,” Burnside said, then started laughing. “You gon' have to step yo’ aim up though if you wanna stomp with the big dawgz.”

  “Next time, I'ma hit you up top,” Ruger spat.

  Everybody took a few steps closer, closing the gap between them and us. We looked like two groups of gorrillaz that was ready to attack at any moment. “I doubt that. You had yo’ chance. You shoulda killed me when you had the chance. That's gon' cost you.”

  “Where Ralo’s bitch ass at?” Phatz jumped in.

  “Close, real close.” He focused his gaze on Tamia. “You’re glowing, Mia. Pregnancy suits you.” He blew my bitch a kiss.

  That put me full of rage. I started walking up with every intention of beating his ass until Twin grabbed me.

  “Bitch ass crackerz lookin' right at us, dawg. We gon' catch these fuck niggaz slippin'.”

  I turned around and saw every cop just waiting on us to make a move. They couldn't wait to whoop our ass, then take us to booking. I gritted my teeth in anger. I was seeing red. Thank God I ain't have no pistol on me 'cause I might have went for it.

  “We gon' see y'all sooner than you think,” Burnside promised, while walking backwards.

  They all shot imaginary guns at us with their hands as the door closed. I was beyond m
ad. I was in beast mode.

  “Looks like y'all might need an escort outside,” Detective Rogers said with a dumb ass smile on his face.

  A group of pigs walked over to us with the same smiles on their faces, but I could see past that. The looks in their eyes told the story of embarrassment and anger. Their misery really touched my soul. “Looks like y'all might need to start looking for new jobs since y'all obviously ain't good at your current ones,” I shot back.

  We all bust out laughing and shakin' each other up right in their faces. That wiped the smiles right off their faces. All of a sudden, the tension got real thick. “I'm going to make sure they stick a needle in your fuckin' arm,” Detective Freeman promised.

  “First you gotta learn how to build a case right without your informants getting crushed,” I spat.

  “You’re a piece of shit murderer that's going to die in the streets,” a fat white gang task pig said.

  The elevator opened up and we stepped in, but I just had to have the last word. “It's better than a needle in the arm. So you’re admitting that y'all will never get me in prison then, right?” I laughed as the doors closed. Tamia looked nervous and that shit infuriated me. I knew it wasn't the cops that had her shook. It was those hoe niggaz that had left before us. I kissed her on the forehead.

  “There is nothin' to worry about, baby mama.”

  “You don't think they’re waiting outside to start shooting at us?” She sounded scared to death.

  I was burning up inside. “We're parked right in front of the building, Tamia. Plus, ain't no way they about to start shootin' with all them cops outside. They be deep as hell out there.”

  When we made it to the first floor, it looked like they had doubled their personnel. It was pigs everywhere! Each one of them punks had their eyes on us as we walked through the corridor. I couldn't tell if it was to intimidate us or to stop any gang violence from happening on their territory.