Too Salty: Ain't a Damn Thang Changed (Part 6)

by Williams, Aleta

  Pam was flabbergasted. She didn’t quite know exactly what it was that Calvin had done, but she knew what he did was dirty and that he’d done some shady shit involving her daughter and lover. Pam covered her mouth. She was literally shaking under the desk. She watched Calvin as he stood up from the chair.

  “Now, Ken, where the fuck is that key, nigga?” Calvin tore up the office. Pam tried her hardest not to make any noise while sobbing, but she wasn’t successful. The sniffles managed to escape and Calvin paused. “What the fuck was that?”

  Pam could tell that all movement stop. She took her other hand and placed it over the hand that already covered her mouth. He was right by the desk. Pam closed her eyes and thought about what she would do if he snatched her up from under the desk. Her eyes popped opened when she heard loud banging at the door. She saw Calvin run over to the window.

  “The police, what the fuck?” He moved swiftly from the window. She heard him open up what she believed was a drawer and shut it.

  God, please, don’t let me get caught. Please, let them be after Calvin.

  “I’m opening the door, don’t kick it down,” she heard Calvin say. A few seconds later, she heard a lot of commotion.

  “Where the fuck is she?”

  OMG, it’s F

  “Where is who?” she heard Calvin say.

  “Muthafucka, I know you know where she’s at. Why else are you here?”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about get these cuffs off me.”

  “Fuck you, asshole. You’re going down and that bitch.” Calvin had no idea what he was talking about and F wasn’t for sure if Pam revealed herself to him, so he didn’t want to speak up on it. “Find her, find her now,” F ordered his crooked buddies from the force.

  I’m caught, Pam thought when she heard two officers talking amongst themselves as they entered the room.

  ~Pastor G ~

  The sun was just setting when Big Man and Pastor G pulled up to Mrs. Lewis house. No car was parked in the driveway, so they assumed Mrs. Lewis was still gone. Big Man pulled into the driveway. Pastor G had his gun in his waist and Big Man’s was in his hand. They exited the vehicle. Big Man stood by the door car facing the street as he watched for anyone that would pull up and be a problem. Pastor G was at the door. He knocked a few times, but there wasn’t an answer. He forgot to get Jazz’s number. He called her name, but she didn’t answer. Pastor G pulled his gun from his waist.

  “I’m going in,” he called out to Big Man. Big Man then stood sideways so he could watch the street and at the same time, watch G. Pastor G used his foot to attempt to kick down Mrs. Lewis’ door. By the fourth kick, he was successful. Before entering the house, he aimed his gun inside ready to shoot. “Jazz, Jazz, it’s me, Pastor Gary,” he announced.

  “I’m in here. I can’t get up.” It sounded like she was crying. Pastor G ran through the living room. “I’m in here on the floor.” Jazz tried getting in her chair and fell down. Pastor G made it to the room. He put his gun back in his waist and rushed over to pick her up.

  “I got you, babe.” He lifted her from the ground and made his way back out of the door. There was a car pulling up in the driveway. Pastor G watched as Big Man walked toward the vehicle. The nigga then aimed his gun toward the front window. This nigga is loco, G thought. Pastor G knew that the person driving the wagon was Mrs. Lewis. It wasn’t quite dark yet, so Big Man had to know that it was an old lady driving. He just didn’t give a fuck.

  “Back the fuck back,” Big Man demanded. G thought he’d better put Jazz in the car. No telling what the hell was going to happen next.

  “We will have to get you another wheelchair, sweetie. We need to go ASAP,” he told her. Jazz wrapped her arms around his neck as he struggled a little to open the back passenger door. He placed Jazz in as quickly and gently as he could. He looked back toward Big Man. What the fuck? He thought when he saw Big Man pulling Mrs. Lewis out the car, and then pushing her with so much force that she landed in the grass.

  “Please, don’t kill me!” she screamed.

  “Say one more word and I will shoot your ass.” Big Man didn’t give a fuck. He had been ready for whatever ever since his cousin was setup by Peter, framed for a murder he didn’t commit, and his girl being shot. Niggas was about to see how niggas from the dirty south moved and it damn sure wouldn’t be in silence.

  Mrs. Lewis covered her face. Pastor G thought he’d better jump in the car. He didn’t know what it was that Big Man was doing, but he had to save Jazz. Big Man jumped in Mrs. Lewis’ wagon and pulled out the driveway, stopping in the middle of the street. By the time Pastor G pulled to the end of the driveway, Big Man had jumped out of the car, and ran over to hop in the truck with G and Jazz. They burnt rubber away from the location.

  G looked over at Big Man, who had turned around and looked at Jazz. “You alright?” Big Man asked her.

  “Yes, thank you. Now, where is Ken?” The way she sounded, it didn’t seem like she was fazed by what just went down.

  “I’m sorry about how I had to handle your grandmother.” Big Man turned back around and looked straight ahead.

  “It’s ok, you had to do what you had to do. Now, where Ken is?”

  “He’ll be out of jail soon.” G looked through the rearview mirror to see if they were being followed. He hoped Mrs. Lewis wouldn’t seek the cops on him and only called her son. He wasn’t trying to go to jail, but he was all for a war with her bitch ass son.

  “Why is he in jail?” asked Jazz.

  “They tried to frame him with Diesel’s murder.” Her heart dropped, and then it came back to her. She remembered the day the police came to her house and asked about his whereabouts. She hadn’t had a chance to talk to him. She hoped that he didn’t do it.

  “He is innocent. He should be out tomorrow.” That would be exactly seventy two hours. Big Man then told G to hop on the freeway. He gave him directions to the hotel out in Orange County that he and Sandra were staying. He thought that would be the safest place for Jazz at the moment.

  Back at Pam’s

  The officers searched the house for about thirty minutes before F called off his crew. Pam was grateful that the ones he sent to search where she was halfway did their job. They never found her under the desk. Before they left, she heard F threaten to take Calvin down. Calvin slammed the door, pissed. He didn’t know what the cop was talking about, but he had a feeling that he was on some shit that??? Probably did and got away with it, but what? And, who in the hell did he think he was hiding? Jazz? He touched his pocket for his cell and remembered he left it in the office. He needed to call his mom. He walked into the office and grabbed it, and Mrs. Lewis was calling him.

  “Jazz, Jazz, they took her,” Mrs. Lewis spoke, half out of breath.

  “Who took Jazz?” Pam’s eyes got big when she heard her baby name.

  “The one that was at court with Ken and that damn Gary. They pulled a gun on me and demanded that I let them leave with her. I’m calling the police.”

  “No, no, don’t tell them shit. Let me handle it. I’m on my way, momma.” Calvin hung up, furious. He kicked the back of the desk so hard, Pam jumped forward. Calvin didn’t pay it any mind when he saw the desk move. He thought he did it. “That nigga is dead. He dead.” He kicked the desk again.

  That time, Pam was prepared. She waited as patient as she could for Calvin to leave. She thought she was bound to get caught sooner than later, and she needed to find Jazz before she did. At that moment, she decided it was time that she come out and let people know she was alive. She was going to pay Stacy a visit. Hopefully, she knew how she could locate Jazz.

  Part Three

  Chapter 14-Wack

  It was exactly midnight when Wack walked into the Crystal Park casino located in Compton, CA. He knew the time because someone had asked him when he walked in. There it was twenty two minutes later and he’d lost the last five hundred he had on the crap table. His plan was to hit the casino in hopes of coming ou
t with double, if not more, but that didn’t happen. He was now broke and on his grind. He was in desperate need for some money. He no longer fucked with his old homeys in hood and his nigga, No Limit, was dead. He would have to get the money solo.

  Wack sat across the room with a cup of Crown Royal in front of him, watching the table. Well, that was what it looked like he was doing. He was really watching the table next to him. There was a white boy with a black chick on his arm that had his interest. Dude must didn’t know where he was at. He announced his winnings like everyone would be happy for him and no one wouldn’t be standing on the sideline waiting to take his shit. He had the game fucked up, especially at a casino in Compton. As Wack sized the medium height, thin framed dude up, he and the chick that was with dude made eye contact. Old girl smiled and Wack returned the smile. She was black as a blueberry with smooth ass skin. The short cut she rocked looked right on her. She was so busy trying to low-key flirt with Wack that she didn’t notice that her dude had place the dice toward her mouth and was waiting for her to blow them. When he didn’t feel her breath, he looked to the side and up at her. She was smiling and looking across the way. Dude followed her gaze and when he saw that she was staring at another dude, he got pissed. He tossed the dice across the table.

  “Seven.” The dealer announced that he’d won again.

  “That’s it.” He used his hand and cut it across his neck, indicating that he was finished.

  “Oh no, baby, you’re on a roll,” she said when she heard him call it quits.

  “How in the hell you know? You’re too busy staring at another man.” He collected his winnings, got up from the table, and walked off.

  “Wait, David.” She pulled at his arm.

  “Watch out, Meesha.” Wack watched as dude yanked his arm away from her. He then handed her a chip. He watched as the two exchange words before dude walked off, leaving her standing there looking dumbfounded. Old girl looked around the casino. She then went in her purse, pulled out her cell, and pressed a few buttons before putting it to her ear and walking out. Wack waited until she was some distance before he followed her.

  Wack scanned the parking lot until he saw her walking toward what he assumed was the car. When she stopped at the white Mustang, he was glad to see that they weren’t parked too far from him. Wack looked behind him to see if dude was coming. He wasn’t. He made his way to his own ride, and hurriedly got in. A few minutes later, dude walked to the car. He and chocolate had words before he opened her side of the door. She got in and he slammed it behind her. He hopped in on his side and smashed out of the parking lot.

  “He still mad.” Wack chuckled as he followed behind him. They hopped on the 91 East and excited Beach Blvd. Without notice, dude pulled up the side of the road. Wack became alarmed. Dude must’ve known that he was following him.

  “Fuck!” Wack huffed. He really needed the lick. Wack drove past them super-fast. About a mile up the block, Wack pulled into a service station a parked. He retrieved his cell from the car charger and called Yay-Yay. Where in the fuck she at? He thought when he didn’t get an answer. Bitch wanna act like a ho, I’m going to treat her like a hoe. I will teach her about disobeying me. At that moment, he made up his mind. Not only was Yay going to get her ass beat for not answering his calls, but the bitch was about to take over Lisa’s old job. She would be fucking undercover and out of the closet, gay, rich women for money. Beep. Wack looked at his phone and saw he had a text. That’s what’s up, he thought, and started his car and pulled off.

  Wack drove back toward the freeway. He glanced on the left of the street and the Mustang wasn’t there. Wack kept driving until he got to the second light and made a right. He parked in front of a brown, two story house. He looked over at the park. There they were, the white Mustang and its occupants. Wack grabbed his ski mask and his gun from up under the seat. He stepped out of the car. Before creeping across the street to the park, he put his mask over his head. The closer he crept to the car, the more he could tell the car was shaking. Indeed, they were in there fucking. As soon as Wack got up on the car, he used the back of his gun to bust out the car window.

  “We’re being attacked!” dude yelled.

  “Shut the fuck up and hand it over. I want the money, nigga.” Wack had his gun aimed at old boy. He glanced at the bitch. Her shirt was off, exposing a nice set of D cups. She had her hands in the air.

  “Please, don’t hurt us,” she pleaded. Wack ignored her. He snatched the driver door open and pulled old boy out, slanging him on the ground and on top of broken glass.

  “Face down,” Wack ordered. Dude turned over and laid on his stomach, his forehead on the pavement. Wack stared at him. The fool’s pants were down and his white ass was in the air. “The money, nigga” Wack glanced around the park to make sure nobody was coming.

  “It’s right there in the window, in the Gucci pouch.”

  “Hand it here,” Wack ordered. The black chick grabbed the pouch and tossed it to Wack. It fell on the ground. Wack kicked dude in the rib cage before bending down and snatching up the pouch. “Count to one thousand.” He kicked dude in the face, knocking his teeth out. He could hear him moan in pain when he took off and ran to his car.

  Ain’t this about a bitch-

  Yay-Yay

  Yay was pissed, dumb founded, stuck on stupid, and salty all in one when Wack walked into the house with some black, pretty bitch on his arm. She had been a nervous wreck for the past twelve hours, worrying about if he as was ok. To calm her nerves, she tried pacing the floors, biting her nails, reading a book, but nothing worked. Now, there he was walking in the following night with a bitch. And, they were smiling like everything was all gravy. Yay had called the county jail looking for him. She tried his cell, but it went to voicemail. She knew Wack wasn’t trying to avoid her because she and Wack had been on good terms for the last few days. Even when he left earlier that night, he told her that when he came back he was going to fuck her brains out. Since they hadn't had dinner, Yay thought that she would surprise him with his favorite meal, tacos, and dress in something sexy with the pink stilettos that he loved to see her in. She had the music going while she cooked and after she set the table, she showered and dressed. Yay even danced around the living room as if it was her own personal stage and the audience had come to see her strip, hoping that Wack would walk in on the show.

  After dancing through two songs, she thought about calling him. She didn't want it to seem like she was putting tabs on him, so she waited a little bit. Yay fixed a drink and when it was half way gone, she picked up her phone. Oh, he called? That was like two hours ago. She dialed him back and it rang a few times before going to voicemail. She called back and that time, it went straight to voicemail. She pulled the phone from her ear and looked at it.

  She went to her text messages and there was none from him, but one from her girl Suga. She decided to read it. Girl, somebody killed GMAN right on his front porch. They say he must've been followed because you know nobody don't know where he stays. Yay thought it was fucked up how they got him. He was so overprotective of his wife and their child. She loved his dirty drawers. But, secretly, she was happy he was dead. He was the only one left that could point the finger at her in Paris' death. There was another message from Suga. Call me, bitch, I'm worried about you. I hope you're not letting that crack head nigga beat on you. Oh. Some fine, sexy, short guy has been looking for you. He said his name is Jay. And, he is delicious. Lol. Yay smiled. She didn't know a Jay and at that time, she wasn't trying to figure him out. She had other shit to deal with, like finding out if her man was ok. She went to sleep and woke up worried about Wack, and now she wished he would have stayed his punk ass where he was at.

  "Who in the fuck is this black bitch?" Yay looked old girl up and down.

  "Who the fuck you calling a bitch?" The black girl was Meesha. She moved her hand from around Wack and walked up on Yay.

  “Yay, you don’t want it.” Wack pulled old girl back. Meesha
wasn’t no punk bitch. She was about the business. She would gut a bitch, set up a trick, and wouldn’t think nothing about it. She used to stay in Wack’s hood, but her family moved away about four years ago when she went to jail for cutting her baby daddy’s dick off after catching him cheating. Her and Wack used to creep around from time to time, nothing major. When he saw her in the casino that night, he slid her a note to meet him in the restroom. He asked about the nigga she was with and Meesha was straight up.