Trust in No Man 3

by Cash

  The nurse entered the room and handed my son to me. I looked at him closely and it took a nigga’s breath away. He was my mirror image. I couldn’t stop looking at him.

  “This is some amazing shit,” I remarked.

  “Now, aren’t you glad I didn’t get an abortion?”

  I looked down at Kamora with a frown. The question fucked up the moment. I didn’t respond. In fact, I said nothing else to her the rest of the time I was there. I blocked her out and enjoyed the time with my son.

  He smiled up at me like he knew who I was. And he gripped my finger tight with his tiny hand.

  Two days later, when it was time for Kamora to be discharged, I picked her and Trey up and drove them home. Inez brought my sisters over to see the baby and they took turns holding him.

  I was a proud father, despite how I had felt about Kamora’s decision. I didn’t have to be with her to be a good pop to my son, whom I loved instantly.

  But I didn’t get to spend much time with my newborn son because a week after he was born, I was on a flight to Virginia. What I was about to do had been put off long enough.

  I used the same false name and ID to rent a car and register a motel as I used to purchase the airline ticket.

  I used the GPS in the rental to find my way to the address on London Boulevard that was embedded in my mind so deep I could call it off in my sleep.

  I had no trouble spotting Delina, that bitch had a recent photo of herself as her profile picture on Facebook.

  I watched her for a whole week, getting her routine down to a science. Lying in the hotel room one evening watching CNN, I was shocked to see the top story was about the A. I turned up the volume to see what it was about.

  “In the early morning hours, residents of this Atlanta community awoke to a grisly scene. A human head was stuck atop a STOP sign. Police have identified the severed head as that of Alejandro Martinez, a reported drug dealer.” I recognized the name as that of the Mexican who supplied cocaine to most of the esses in the A. I shook my head in amusement. Criminal and ‘em had definitely made a statement by pumpkinizing Martinez.

  I hit bruh up. “Boy, you’re a beast,” I said in salutation.

  “Niggas better know—this shit right here ain’t what they want. I’ll turn everyday into Halloween. Ya heard me, fam?”

  “Yeah, I heard you, dawg.” I chuckled.

  “Get at me later. I gotta go slap a nigga around for scratching up my paint when he washed my car this morning.”

  “A’ight, fool, I’ll holla.” I laughed.

  I hung up from Criminal and dialed Inez. We talked about what had happened without mentioning Criminal’s name.

  In the end, Inez said, “He’s not gonna last like that. Hadiya might as well get ready for those weekend trips to prison to visit him.”

  “Don’t jinx him.”

  “Hmmph! He’s making himself a hot boy.”

  Hot was definitely an understatement. I could just imagine how hard po-po was gonna come down on the hood, pressing niggas to talk. They wouldn’t get much cooperation, though— not with those young GF dudes pumpkinizing muthafuckas.

  I said goodbye to Inez and stood in the window of the hotel looking out over downtown Norfolk. Rain came down in sheets, drumming the window pane like a baseline. My first trip to VA wasn’t for fun, so I welcomed the storm.

  As I moved closer to the window in order to see through the downpour, my pop’s urn clinked against the glass, reminding me what I had come to Virginia to do.

  Then I heard Big Ma’s voice in my head. Vengeance is mine, said the Lord. Wrong. I would avenge my father. It is what I had thought about every day for the past seven years. Nothing mattered more to me than that. Not even my own life.

  Thunder clapped as I drove through the downtown tunnel headed back to Portsmouth. It took me all of five minutes to take the Effingham exit, make a left and then make a second left onto High Street. I saw the high school, I.C. Norcom, which I used as a landmark to find her house. It was the perfect location for me to park the rental and trek across the boulevard to Delina’s.

  Her house was on the corner, so it was in my peripheral view.

  I parked close to the stadium and then locked the doors as I headed across the street. I didn’t even feel the rain soaking my clothes—that’s how focused I was as I made my way up the street and into the backyard of the house where she lived.

  Having been there a few nights before, I had no trouble finding the basement window I had already broken out and taped up in preparation of what I was about to do.

  I removed the tape and reached a gloved hand inside and unlatched the window lock. A minute later, I was in the basement using a pen light to find my way. I climbed some stairs that led up to the kitchen. There, I stood still for a moment and listened. I knew that Delina had a dude, but I had watched him leave for work half an hour ago. I had his routine down pat, too.

  The floor squeaked with each step I took in search of the bedroom.

  “Yusef, is that you?” I heard her call out. “Did you forget something, baby?” I followed the sound of her voice.

  We bumped into each other in the doorway of her bedroom. Delina shrieked. I grabbed her throat and silenced her with a stern threat.

  “Make another sound and I’ll blow your fucking brains out!” I pushed her back into the bedroom down on the bed and stood over her.

  The light from the lamp illuminated my face. She had not seen me in more than ten years, since I was a little boy, sitting in court listening to her rat my pop out, but she recognized me instantly. It was like my face was haunting her dreams.

  “You’re Youngblood’s son,” she murmured.

  “And, also, his keeper, bitch!” I punched her in the eye.

  She put up a fight when I duct taped her hands and mouth, but nothing compared to when I pulled out a syringe. Her eyes bulged out in horror. I sat the syringe down and tied a length of cloth around her arm. A vein popped up. She thrashed and kicked, correctly reading my intentions. I duct taped her ankles together and cracked her across the head with my banger, knocking her unconscious.

  I picked the needled back up and twirled it between my thumb and forefinger, smiling manically. Inez had filled it with rat poison before I left the A.

  In the hotel room, I had watched a medical instructional DVD numerous times to learn how to accurately inject someone. I did not want to kill the bitch fast. I wanted her sentenced to death by lethal injection— the same punishment her testimony helped my pop receive.

  I slapped her awake. She could only look up at me out of one eye because the other was swollen shut.

  “Didn’t you know you would have to pay one day?” I asked calmly as I skeeted a bit of rat poison up in the air to make sure the needle wasn’t clogged. “You violated the code of the streets. Had my pop gotten caught first he would’ve never snitched on you and your rat nigga. He trusted y’ all with his life and you betrayed him. For that, I sentence you to death by lethal injection.”

  I gripped her arm tightly and slid the tip of the needle up under her skin. Blood trickled around the syringe as I pushed it deeper inside of her vein. She fought to keep it out, but I pumped the poison into her arm and watched it slowly take effect.

  Her body convulsed and her head whipped from side to side. Muffled cries escaped from around the strip of tape covering her mouth. Her eyes grew big and her chest heaved rapidly.

  I felt no remorse as the poison attacked her system, and she lost control of her bowels. It was with a smile that I left the bitch stinkin’.

  “For you, pop,” I said touching my chain.

  Back inside my room at the hotel, I celebrated by sparking a blunt and poppin’ a bottle of Ace of Spade. Pop, it’s almost over. I done slumped them all except Lonnie, but I got a plan for that ass, too.

  Only death could stop me.

  CHAPTER 38

  Inez wanted a blow by blow account of Delina’s body’s reaction to the poison.

  “
You’re kind of sick in the head. Did you know that?” I half-joked, sitting next to her on the living room sofa.

  “No, I’m not. I hope that bitch suffered before she died because what she did was foul,” Inez said.

  “She suffered— take my word for it,” I said.

  “No, I want to hear what happened,” she demanded.

  So, I described every moment from the second I entered the basement window until Delina took her last breath.

  Inez’ eyes showed that she was pleased. “She got just what that ass deserved. Snitching ass bitch.”

  “Inez, you’re too gangsta.” I chuckled. “Now let me tell you something that I’ve been meaning to tell you for a few weeks.”

  “You and Kamora are getting back together?” she asked hopefully.

  “Nah. It’s something altogether different and I’m not sure how you’re gonna feel once I tell you.”

  “Boy, will you quit blabbering and give it to me straight—no chaser.”

  “A’ight. Fat Stan didn’t spray up your crib that day. We were both wrong about that.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yep,” I replied. Then I told her how I knew for certain.

  The implication wasn’t lost on her. She said, “I thought for sure he had done it.” And just for a split-second I saw a look of regret come across her face and then just as quickly it was gone. “I have to tell you something also,” she said, “but you have to promise not to say anything.”

  “Let me hear it first.” I wasn’t making any blind promises.

  “No. You have to promise; otherwise, I’m not telling you.”

  “A’ight. I promised.” I relented because the suspense was making my head hurt. Then when Inez, told me the business my head was pounding. Inez had taken Eryka to have an abortion.

  “Don’t you dare question her about it,” Inez said.

  I covered my face with both hands and fought to control my anger. “Who was she pregnant by? Just tell me the lil’ nigga’s name,” I demanded with a scowl on my face hard enough to shatter glass.

  “She won’t tell me, and it really doesn’t matter now.”

  “Where’s her hot ass?”

  “Upstairs asleep and you’re not going up there. She already feels bad enough. Shit happens. Look, I’m going to get her on the pill because that grandmother of hers doesn’t have a clue. I mean, the way she leaves those girls alone all of the time, it’s a wonder both of them don’t have two or three babies running around. I’m going to even ask for custody,” said Inez.

  Tamia and Chante came bouncing down the stairs, so we hushed.

  “Hey, bruh-bruh,” they both said in unison.

  “Hey back. What y’ all been up to?”

  “Watching movies,” said Tamia. She plopped down next to me and hugged my neck.

  Chante sat on my lap and bit my nose.

  “Oww!” I yelped and feigned a frown. But their affection brightened my mood.

  “Ma, what’s wrong with Eryka?” Tamia blurted out and a real frown enveloped my face.

  Inez hunched her shoulders. “I don’t know.”

  Which she and I knew was a lie.

  The next day, I met Criminal at his new house out in Rockdale. The luxuriousness of his five-bedroom, three-level home spoke volumes about how well he was doing. Every room was furnished in expensively fine taste. After showing me around, Criminal led me into the den where Hadiya served us lemon pepper wings and a huge platter of potato skins along with a bowl of Kush and a bottle of Patron. Then she left us to speak privately.

  “So, how do you like my spot, bruh? This is a long way from the hood, ain’t it?” said Criminal.

  “Yeah, it sure is. You got it poppin’, fam. Then that joint you did with Swag and TI just dropped and it’s raping the charts. Bruh, you gettin’ ducats hand over fist.”

  “I told you I was gonna put the game in a choke hold. Every young nigga in the city wanna be down with GF now because they see we’re not bangin’, we’re gettin’ rich. Yet and still it’s been proven that we’ll escalate the city’s body count if niggas wanna take it there.”

  “Yeah, that was some straight vicious shit y’all did to that Mexican, Martinez. That shit made the world news.”

  “Yep. If niggas don’t bow down, we’ll make them famous,” boasted Criminal.

  I took a second to format my words before verbalizing them. I didn’t want my dude to take what I was about to say the wrong way.

  “Bruh, I got nothin’ but love for you. And I salute your rise to the top, but I wanna see you remain there. Shit like what y’all did to that Mexican will bring the Feds, so turn it down a notch,” I advised.

  “Bruh, I’m untouchable.” He popped his collar, exuding tremendous arrogance.

  That shocked me because Criminal had to know that no one was untouchable. In 2003, when we were both just becoming teenagers and were just two little bad ass niggas, BMF had the A on fiyah. Big Meech’s name was on the tongues of everyone from middle school on up. No crew had ever done it like BMF before or since. But the Feds smashed them. They took Big Meech and them down hard.

  Nobody is untouchable, I thought.

  Criminal changed the subject to one that interested me the most. He had located some of his GF homies who were on lock at Macon State Prison with Lonnie. My ears perked up.

  “These niggas are straight killas, and all three of them are serving fresh life sentences and won’t even be considered for parole for thirty years. So, they don’t give a fuck. I’m about to hit one of them up and let you talk to him,” said Criminal.

  “How are you gonna hit him up?” I asked without thinking.

  “Bruh, everybody in the chain gang got contraband cell phones these days. Those niggas are living good in there, fuckin’ country ass CO bitches and all type of shit.”

  “Yeah, I heard.”

  Criminal called up his people on lock like those niggas were out here on the streets. He spoke to his man for a minute and then passed the phone to me.

  “Sup?” I said.

  “Sup, bruh-bruh. Since Criminal fuck with you I know you’re official. Plus, I got other homies out there who speak good about you. Check this out, that nigga who snitched on your pop was hard to find at first because he don’t go by Lonnie anymore. Dude is Muslim now and they call him Hakeem. He’s a real quiet dude who hardly talks to anyone. Now I know why.”

  “Yeah, he’s afraid a big ass skeleton might fall out of his mouth.”

  “I know. I pulled him up on the Internet on my cell phone and found out that what you said is true. He sold your pop out. Don’t worry, bruh bruh, we’re gonna smash his snitchin’ ass for you. The Muslims are gonna be real mad, and they’re real strong at this camp, but fuck them. A rat can’t hide under a kufi and a prayer rug.”

  I muttered in agreement.

  “We’re gonna dead the nigga for you. You have my word on that. Ask Criminal, my word is my bond. They call me Assassin.”

  “A’ight, fam, what will I need to do for y’all?” I asked because I understood that it would cost a steep price. But I was willing to pay whatever. Lonnie was the last name on the list of those who had betrayed my pop and I wanted him dead.

  “Fifty stacks for me. Give it to Criminal, and he’ll get it to me. My nigga Third Ward wants twenty bands, and he wants you to cop his mama an Altima. The third nigga that’s gonna ride is KK. He also wants twenty bands and he wants you to smash the nigga who put his twin brother in a wheelchair. Criminal knows who the nigga is. Once you handle all of that, have Criminal holla back.”

  What Assassin and them were asking of me was not a problem. Ducats were no issue, at all, and neither was smashing a nigga. By now killing became second nature to me.

  The next day, I brought Criminal ninety stacks. Fifty for Assassin and twenty piece for the other two. Inez took Third Ward’s mama to purchase that Altima he wanted her to have. Then with Criminal’s help, I went hunting the dude that paralyzed KK’s twin brother.
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  I didn’t find him right away, and meanwhile I was also still trying to find Zeke and Soldier Boy. I hadn’t forgot about those bitch ass niggas. Big Ma, Laquanda and Ava had not died in vain! But they were nowhere to be found.

  My gangsta had sent them into hiding and rumor was they were cliqued up together.

  Months passed with no luck on finding either of my preys. I hadn’t seen my son in a week because Kamora hadn’t been answering my calls. So, I decided to just pop up over there unannounced.

  I drove over there planning to surprise her, but the surprise was on me. As I pulled up to the curb in front of her house, she stood in the doorway locked in a deep kiss with a nigga. I scowled and took out my cell phone. I aimed it at them and snapped three pictures. They were so into the kiss they never even noticed me.

  “That’s why the bitch has been acting so funny style lately,” I said to Inez after recounting what I saw.

  “Wow!” That’s the only response she could think of. “Well, I hate to be the bearer of more foul shit, but this is something that you absolutely need to know.” She got up from the kitchen table where we were sitting and went upstairs. A few minutes later, she sat a small notebook-like thing down on the table in front of me.

  “What’s this?”

  “Eryka’s diary. She left it over here and curiosity got the best of me,” admitted Inez.

  She opened Eryka’s book of secrets and flipped the pages to what she wanted me to read.

  What I read floored me, but I held my cool because in an hour or so I had to go twist a nigga’s shit so I needed to be on point. I checked my emotions.

  “I’ll deal with this soon, and that’s on all I love,” I said, handing the diary back to Inez. Then I stood up and hugged her goodbye.

  I walked out to my truck with a face of granite and heart of stone. I drove over to what used to be Simpson Road and parked across the street from where I was told my target would be. I pushed everything else to the back of my mind and concentrated on tonight’s mission. The nigga that had crippled KK’s twin had been located.

  An hour later, he appeared from inside of the building.