by Nene Capri
“Bitch, you ain’t in this shit by yourself. You worrying about what that punk ass nigga got to say and Bay almost lost her fucking life,” Treebie yelled as she pointed over to Bayonna. “Look at her! She over there fucked up. You holla out that ‘go in four’ shit, well tonight we almost came out as three. Burn that shit in your mind.”
Lissha looked over at Bayonna and the severity of the evening began to feel heavy on her heart. She took a deep breath and sat on the couch to gather her thoughts. “We gotta cover every end of this shit,” she calmly stated.
“No shit,” Treebie said as she sat across from her.
When they locked gazes no more words were spoken. They knew they had to be smart and make sure that from now on they paid closer attention to detail. The also realized that now their relationship would be different. The trust had just taken a turn and it was only a matter of time before one of them would push the envelope. When that inevitable day came more than friendship would be lost.
While the girls disrobed and began putting their gear in black plastic bags, Lissha stood there thinking. She had to admit Treebie was right. Big Zo knew they were hitting spots. If Kiam had told him that he had his hand in gambling houses Big Zo would have told her to steer clear of those particular houses. So if Kiam hadn’t told Big Zo about his gambling houses, what else was he doing on the low?
Lissha now wondered if Kiam was really loyal or if his allegiance had grown cold with the rise of the money and the power. She grabbed her phone and walked in the other room. When Big Zo picked up she unleashed the coded report and his icy silence confirmed that something definitely wasn’t right.
Chapter 31
Good Times Never Last
Kiam was chilling in the passenger seat, listening to Eyez hum along with a Keyshia Cole song on the radio. She had volunteered to drive back and he hadn’t refused. He looked over at his baby and smiled; she was still radiant from their weekend retreat.
She reached over and held his hand. “I really enjoyed this weekend,” she said sincerely.
“Me too, baby. We have to do it again real soon, something about being up in the woods brought the freak out of you,” he teased.
“I’m always your little freak.” She released his hand and slid hers between his legs and grabbed a handful of dick.
“A’ight, mess around and make me give it to you on the shoulder of the highway,” Kiam warned.
“Give me some of that back woods wood,” she replied stroking him. “You can’t hang.”
“You feel my little nigga, don’t you? He hard body.” He looked over at her.
“Yes he is. All swole up and ready to take a chick down through there.”
“Pull over.” It was dark outside plus the windows were tinted. He was game for a quickie.
“I’m not messing with you, Kiam, you already got me walking sideways.” She giggled and removed her hand from off that steel before she became tempted to pull over and ride it.
Kiam was looking over at her to see if she was really game but the kitty was sore from all that good lovin’ he had put on her.
“Look at who can’t hang,” he boasted.
“Be quiet, baby.” She cheesed and reached over and playpunched him on the shoulder.
“For real though, ma, I really enjoyed this weekend. A nigga could get used to that.”
“Yesssss,” she sang, savoring the memories. She didn’t want the weekend to come to an end. To wake up in his arms and receive all of his attention had her floating.
Faydrah glanced down at the engagement ring on her finger and prayed that the fairytale would last forever. All she had ever wanted was to be his wife. The diamond on her finger was his promise to make her wish come true.
Halfway back to the city Kiam decided to get his cell phone out of the compartment between the seats and check his messages. They had turned their cell phones off and left them in the truck the entire weekend so that they could focus entirely on each other.
As Faydrah steered into the fast lane, passing a slow moving Suburban, Kiam powered up his phone and saw a half dozen text messages from JuJu and several voicemail notifications. A line creased his forehead, something had to be wrong. He didn’t bother opening the text messages or listening to the voicemails, instead he called JuJu’s cellphone.
“Man, I’ve been trying to reach you since Friday night,” JuJu said as soon as he answered. Kiam could tell from the tone of his voice that something serious had taken place.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Niggas ran up in the gambling spot on 117th and St. Clair.”
“Who ran up in there, undies?” asked Kiam, referring to the vice squad.
“Nah, it was those Blood Money niggas. Man, they killed everybody in the house, and they took all the spread. Something like a hundred racks.”
Kiam’s face hardened. “Fuck the money. They killed Ddouble?”
“Yeah, man, the homie gone,” he sadly confirmed.” And Lil’ Bump too. Bruh, that bitch ass nigga got them in the door.”
Kiam’s blood boiled as he listened to JuJu give him a full report of the robbery. When JuJu told him what they did to him, his whole face washed over in anger. He didn’t know who in the fuck the Blood Money crew was but he was gonna kick down every door in the city until he found them. Then he was gonna execute them without trial or jury.
When Kiam hung up the phone Faydrah looked at him out the corner of her eye. She had clearly heard his end of the conversation and she recognized the expression on his face. This was the reason she wanted him to leave the streets. She didn’t give a damn about street principles, revenge, and loyalty to people who weren’t loyal to themselves. She just wanted him to be around to love her and not wind up back in prison or lying on a cold slab at the Coroner’s. That’s all she cared about.
Kiam was quiet, which she knew meant somebody was going to die real soon, he was just calculating his moves. Steaming inside, she got off at the next exit. Kiam looked at the gas needle and saw that the tank was three-quarters full. “What you doing, ma?” he asked suspiciously.
“I’m turning around and going back to the resort. I am not letting you do what’s on your mind.”
“No the fuck you not,” he growled.
“Yes the fuck I am.”
Kiam reached for the steering wheel and yanked it. Faydrah slammed on brakes barely avoiding crashing head on into a passing vehicle. Her heart was beating fast and her hands trembled. She threw the truck in park and snapped her head around toward Kiam, glaring at him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” she screamed. “You almost got us killed. Is the streets that fucking important to you.” Tears formulated.
“Don’t fuck with me right now, shorty,” he warned her. He hopped out the truck and stormed around to the driver’s side.
Faydrah got out but she sure wasn’t getting back in. She took off up the dark four lane road on foot.
Kiam pulled up alongside of her and rolled down the window. “Girl, get your ass in the truck,” he ordered.
“Fuck you. You can have the streets.” She quickened her pace to a sprint.
“I don’t need this shit right now,” Kiam fumed as he sped up and caught up to her again. He put the truck in park and hopped out.
Faydrah felt Kiam’s fingers brush against her back in an effort to catch her and she kicked into a full gear run. By the time Kiam ran her down he was out of breath and not in the mood for anymore of her shit. He snatched her up, threw her over his shoulder. Faydrah squirmed around. “Put me down,” she cried.
Kiam ignored her theatrics, and carried her back to where he had left the truck. He strapped her in the passenger seat and slammed the door. “Play with this shit if you want to,” he warned.
Faydrah sat there with her arms folded across her chest as he climbed back behind the wheel. Kiam took off doing ninety all the way back. Neither of them said a word to each other the rest of the drive home.
As soon as they pulled up at her place, Fa
ydrah was out the truck before it came to a complete stop. She ran inside her apartment and slammed the door, locking Kiam out.
With her back against the door and her heart aching, she waited for him to bang on the door and tell her that he had changed his mind, he was not going to seek revenge on anyone. But the only sounds Faydrah heard were his squealing tires and her own sobs. She snatched the door back open to call out to him, but all she saw was fading taillights. Distraught, she closed the door and walked up to her bedroom, wiping at the tears that ran down her face. She fell across her bed then slid to her knees.
Dear God, I only ask that you protect him and those that he encounter tonight. Watch over him Lord, and please hear my prayer.
Chapter 32
Beast Mode
Kiam blocked out Faydrah’s emotions, this was not the time for him to be affected by her tears. The only wet faces he wanted to see were those of the family members of the niggas that called themselves Blood Money and flaunted that shit like they couldn’t be touched.
His knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel and drove through the city with that toe-tag shit on his mental.
One of JuJu’s bout it chicks let Kiam in as soon as he knocked. Juju was in his bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed with an arsenal of weapons at his feet. His mouth was hideously swollen and his right hand was heavily bandaged. Pain medication had him drowsy, but none of that diminished his gangsta, he was ready to ride.
“They handled me like I was a ho. But they fucked up when they didn’t kill me. On my hood, I’ma body every one of them when I find ‘em,” he vowed. The heat in his eyes was intense enough to set the room ablaze.
Kiam laid a hand on JuJu’s shoulder and spoke in a low tone so that the girl out in the living room couldn’t hear him. “Don’t worry, they’re gonna die for what they did to you. And it’s gonna be painful and slow.”
“I’m ready to ride,” JuJu said. “Tonight.”
“I know you are, lil’ homie, but fall back for a minute and let me collect some Intel on these niggas, then we’ll ride. Now tell me everything you can remember about those Blood Money boys, no detail is too small.”
Leaving JuJu’s place a half hour later Kiam went over to Lissha’s. It was past midnight but he didn’t care about the time, murder never sleeps. Muthafuckas had tested the crew’s get-down on his watch and that shit was unpardonable.
Lissha came to the door wearing a long t-shirt and wiping sleep from her eyes. She looked in his face and saw the blazing heat behind his pupils. He brushed right past her and headed to her living room.
Lissha closed the front door and followed. She already knew why he was there, but she was nervous about how much he had been able to find out. She quickly replayed the events of Friday night in her head. Had they done anything that may have given their identities away? Lissha tried to recall.
Kiam flicked on the light and sat down on the sofa. “Have a seat,” he said. Lissha studied his face before complying. Three lines creased his forehead and his jaw twitched.
This muthafucka hotter than fish grease. Damn, Treebie fucked up and now I’m left to face the music if he knows. Lissha instantly regretted answering the door without her strap. Now she had to use guile, act like she normally would with him, and deny all accusations.
“What the fuck is going on, Kiam? Why are you barging in my shit at one o’clock in the morning bossing me around?” she hurled.
He ignored her question and his look hardened even more. “What do you know about Blood Money?”
Lissha swallowed nervously. “Um, I heard of them, they’re a stickup crew. Why?” She dummied up.
“Is that all the fuck you can tell me? Do you know who any of them niggas are?”
“No. All I know is that they have a lot of hustlers shook. Why are you asking about Blood Money, did something happen?” She had recovered her poise, it was evident he didn’t know shit.
Kiam told her what had happened.
“Wait a minute. When the fuck did we get into the gambling business? You doing shit behind me and Daddy’s backs now?” she asked, deflecting his attention off Blood Money.
“Fuck you talking to? I’m doing what the fuck I do. And as long as the money is proper you just play your position. I don’t answer to no fuckin’ body. Big Zo knows my get-down, I’m a loyal nigga, that’s why he chose me to run this. Now get your panties out your ass and do something constructive, like tell me anything you can to help me find out who Blood Money is. That’s what the fuck you do.”
Lissha stood up and smoothed her t-shirt down over her brown thighs. “Since you’re so power struck find them yourself. I’m going back to bed. Don’t let the door hit you in your ass too hard on your way out.”
When she turned to head back to her bedroom, Kiam sprung up off the couch, snatched her by both arms, and spun her around to face him. Instinctively Lissha fixed her mouth to snap, but Kiam went there first.
“Look,” he snarled, “this is not the time for your slick ass mouth. Money and lives got took tonight. From this point on, the games stop. Get that through your head or I’ma force it inside that muthafucka. Now take your ass to bed and wake up with a brand new attitude.” He shoved her toward the bedroom and walked out the door.
After she heard Kiam drive off, Lissha grabbed her phone off the dresser and hurriedly got Treebie, Donella, and Bayonna together on a conference call. It was imperative that everyone understand that Kiam was on a warpath and there could be no more slip-ups. “That muthafucka is boiling,” Lissha kept saying.
“You told us that five times already. Damn bitch, if you scared increase your insurance policy,” said Treebie.
“Fuck you,” Lissha replied.
The ladies argued back and forth about what, if anything, should be done to thwart all efforts of Kiam’s to find out who Blood Money were.
“If he gets too close I’ma put him in the dirt,” said Treebie.
Chapter 33
A Gangsta’s Reaction
Kiam had been turning the city inside out searching for the identities of Blood Money. He offered fifty bands for each of their names but so far no one had exposed the crew.
JuJu was chomping at the bit to get his revenge; he had bought a Tommy gun and a brand new AK-47 with a Larry Bird extenzo— thirty three shots. How he was going to shoot either weapon with one hand, Kiam wasn’t sure, but he respected his G.
As he headed downtown to a sport’s bar to meet with Frank Nitti, Kiam’s cellphone rang. He answered the call without identifying the caller. “Bitch nigga, you don’t look for Blood Money, we look for you,” The caller said then line went dead.
Kiam stared at the blank screen. As he suspected, the call came from a restricted number but he knew that it was authentic because the caller had sounded like he was talking into a wind tunnel or some type of voice distortion device like the one JuJu had described. Whoever Blood Money was, they had just made their first mistake.
Kiam knew that he had them worried, otherwise they wouldn’t have made the call. They would have just struck. They were killahs, no doubt, so what was it they made them fear him? He pondered.
He knew that if he found the answer to that question it would reveal their identities.
A half hour later Kiam sat across from Frank Nitti.
Nitti used his steak knife to cut a piece of the rib eye in front of him. “I’m hearing your name loud in the streets,” he said, chewing and flashing a fake smile that couldn’t hide the envy that was underneath it.
“You must be listening too hard, fam,” shot Kiam who was not one to mince words.
“Bruh, you know the streets talk. I hear that Schizophrenic got the whole Eastside jumping. They tell me you got the work for the low, still in the casket. And you got shit sewed up from Miles to Hough, all the way out to EC. You came home and hit the ground running, didn’t you?”
“What’s your point, homie? You a groupie or something?”
“Nah, nigga, you know
better than that,” Nitti sat the knife and fork down, pushed his plate back, and sneered at Kiam.
“Get the fuck off my dick and get to the point, then.” Kiam’s hand slid under the table just in case Nitti didn’t let the disrespect pass.
Nitti peeped the move and let his own hands remain on top off the table, palms down. “Damn, Bleed, we go way back. What did I ever do to you to make you come at me like that?”
“Number one, let’s not pretend we’re close or nothing. Just like you, I haven’t forgot about our run in back in the day.”
Nitti recalled their old beef as one he still wanted to settle. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. That was how he played the game. “Fam, I let the past stay in the past. Why you think I hit you up? Fuck the bullshit, nigga, it’s all about the paper and I hear you’re locking shit down these days.”
“That’s neither here nor there, Bleed. But why you wasting my time reading me my own resume? I already know what the fuck I’ve done, ‘cause I’m the muthafucka that did it. Just say what’s on your mind. Time is money.” Kiam had did his homework since running into Nitti at the Sunoco station. He knew who the nigga rolled with.
“A’ight. Long story short, you’re stepping on toes. And the toes you stepping on are attached to some big ass feet. You ever heard the name Wolfman?”
“Long story short,” Kiam reminded him.
Nitti finally got to the point. Kiam listened as he explained Wolfman’s offer. When Nitti was done, Kiam chuckled. “Do I look like a worker to you?”
“Don’t be arrogant, man. You don’t wanna fuck with a nigga like Wolfman,” warned Nitti. “Just think about the offer.”
“Yeah, a’ight. I’ma think about it and get back wit’ you.” Kiam stood up, preparing to leave. He looked down at Nitti whose hands were now folded on the table in front of his plate. Kiam chuckled again. In one swift motion he snatched the steak knife and brought it down with force, plunging it straight through Nitti’s hand and pinning it to the table.
