by Tranay Adams
Whack! Swhack! Slackkk! Shrackkk!
New welts appeared while the other ones opened up and bled, smearing blood over her limbs. When Franklin finally stopped, she lay there as naked as the day she was born, chest heaving as she bawled. He wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and pulled his belt around his waistline, buckling it. Afterwards, he placed the hat on his head he’d sat on the dresser when he entered and slipped on his overcoat. He threw Marbella’s clothes on the floor beside her. His chest leaped up and down and his nostrils flared as he continued to take husky breaths.
“I guess you’re wondering how I found you, huh?” he pulled a cell phone from out of his coat’s pocket and held it up for her to see. It belonged to Zonyai. Her eyes lit up with recognition when she saw it. “Yep, we caught up with your little nigger boyfriend, found the GPS in his phone that led us straight to you.” he pointed his plump finger at her. Suddenly, the cell rung and vibrated, he looked down at the screen. It was Mufasa. Before he pressed answer, he told her. “Get up and put on your fuckin’ clothes, before I catch a homicide charge out dis mothafucka.”
Those commanding words shot Marbella to her feet, grabbing her clothes. She hastily got dressed while her husband chopped it up with Mufasa. “He’s still in one piece, but that’s on the strength of our relationship, ‘cause otherwise I woulda had one of my guys put ‘em out of his misery. Good. I’m coming out now.” He disconnected the call and stood to his Mauri gators, stashing the device in his coat’s pocket.
“Let’s go.” He threw his head to the door and she moved out with him following closely behind. When Marbella stepped through the door she found Mufasa and Zeus standing in the parking lot by his Maybach. They were standing beside Franklin’s Lincoln Town Car which she saw Jackie Needles and Joey-T sitting inside. She turned to her rear, hearing the door shut behind her. She found Franklin looking across the way at the motel’s office window. He gave a nod to the clerk who’d obviously given him the key to enter her room for whatever amount of money.
“Come on,” the big man grabbed her arm so tightly that she winced, nearly stumbling and falling as he pulled her along toward his vehicle. She narrowed her eyelids as she saw someone with a black pillowcase over their head. She figured it was Zonyai seeing as how Franklin had just finished talking to Mufasa.
“Is that my boy there in the backseat?” Mufasa inquired with a no nonsense attitude, adjusting the collar of his trench coat.
“Yeah, that’s him.” Franklin said seemingly getting angrier thinking about the young black man that was fucking his wife. He let his wife’s arm go and pulled Zonyai out of the backseat. He gave some resistance not knowing where he was being that he’d ran dick up in the wrong man’s wife. His entire body was trembling and he was jerking back and forth with his wrists zip-cuffed in front of him.
“Huh, unh, fuck are y’all niggaz doing, man? Let me go! Let me the fuck go!” he continued to struggle, whipping his head from left to right, frightened.
Zeus took him from the big man and yanked the black pillowcase from off of his head. Mufasa and Zeus cringed seeing how bloody and swollen his face was. The only way they could tell that it was him was the sound of his voice and mannerisms. They looked to Franklin who wasn’t fazed by the damaged he and his crew had done to the youngster.
“It could have been worse. In fact, it should have been worse.” he mad dogged Mufasa, hoping that he acted up so he could have the perfect excuse to waste his street son right in front of him.
“Jesus, Zonyai, what did they do to you?” Marbella broke down slobbering and crying, hands cupping her face. The sound of her voice brought his head around, surprised to know that she was still alive. He thought for sure that her husband was going to put a bullet in the both of them.
“Bella, is that really you?” He asked, lowering his head and narrowing his eyes into slits. Through one eye he saw through red vision being that he had blood in it.
“Yes, baby, it’s really me.” she whined, her voice cracking under her emotions. She went to embrace him but her husband stepped between them and smacked the shit out of her. She stumbled back and bumped up against his Lincoln.
“You disloyal whore!” Franklin sneered, peering through vindictive eyes.
After seeing the big man strike his lady and the welts and smears of blood on her, Zonyai went ape shit trying to fight him. He couldn’t punch him because his wrists were bound so he tried to kick him.
“You fat mothafucka, I’ll kill you! I’ll fucking kill you!” he hollered out through busted lips, looking out through a nearly swollen shut eye. When Franklin went to draw his steel from his waist, Mufasa held up both of his hands letting him know that they didn’t want any trouble. The De Lucci family’s don stayed his hand but uttered a stern warning, wagging his finger as Zeus shoved an unruly Zonyai into the back of the Maybach.
“From now on, you keep ya dog on a leash ‘cause should he come sniffing around in my backyard again, there’s gonna be consequences and repercussions. Got that?”
Mufasa looked from his hateful eyes to the finger he held in his face. He was tempted to bite that mothafucka off, but instead he smirked and said Humph, before walking around to the front passenger side of his Maybach. Once he’d gotten into the car, Franklin’s head snapped to Marbella who was holding her stinging cheek. He looked from the side of her face to where she was looking and found Zonyai at the end of her line of vision. His temper flared up again and he snatched her by the arm, nearly pulling it out of its socket. She winced, feeling the pain around her shoulder blade. Franklin threw open the back door of the Lincoln and stashed her inside. Turning around, he adjusted the collar of his overcoat and mad dogged Zonyai who was looking out through the backseat window of the Maybach. The crime boss harped up some phlegm and spit on the ground, glaring up at him. He then made his way around to the other side of the vehicle, pulling open the back door and hopping inside.
Zonyai and Marbella peered out at one another through the backseat windows of their respective rides. She was crying her eyes out and his eyes had become teary, obscuring his vision. When their whips came alive and began their departure. She fogged up the glass of the backseat window with her hot breath and wrote I Love U. Seeing what she’d done, he fogged the window with his breath, too. With his wrists still bound, he wrote with his finger, I Love U 2. The vehicles drove in separate directions with them kissing their fingertips and blowing kisses at one another. The further they got apart from another, the harder they sobbed, tears sprawling down their cheeks. Once they could no longer see each other’s faces, they turned away from their respective windows and bawled as quietly as they could.
“Here, let me get those for you.” Mufasa pulled a switch-blade from his back pocket and triggered its blade. Zonyai hastily wiped his face so that the kingpin wouldn’t see he’d been crying before turning around to him. Mufasa grabbed the man he’d affectionately called son by his wrists and held them, slicing him loose of his restraints. Finally free, he rubbed his wrists and grimaced, seeing the lines and bruises that had formed around them.
“Let this be a lesson to you, son. You stay the fuck away from that woman.” Mufasa told him, closing the knife and slipping it into his back pocket. “She almost cost you yo’ life.” There was silence as Zonyai stared out of the window, still rubbing his throbbing wrists. He was focused on the back red lights of the Lincoln until it was swallowed by the darkness.
“You hear me talking to you, Yai?” Mufasa grabbed him by the chin and jerked his head around to him. For the first time he saw the pain and tears in his eyes as well as his flaring nostrils. This caused his forehead to furrow and that’s when he realized that he was indeed in love with a married woman. It didn’t matter though because he couldn’t have whatever he had going on with that woman to fuck up his business. With that in mind, he scowled and his eyes took on a deadly glint to them. “You stay the fuck away from that woman. Do you understand me, boy? I don’t want chu anywhere around her
. You stay the hell away from her, do I make myself clear?” There was silence between them as they stared into one another’s eyes, thinking. Suddenly, one of them decided to speak and break it.
“Yeah, you made yourself clear.” Zonyai snatched his chin away from Mufasa and lay the side of his head against the headrest of the Maybach. His eyes rimmed with water and he sniffled, tears jetting down his cheeks.
For the next two years Zonyai had an affair with Marbella until he was eventually caught on the fateful night that he’d lost his leg. Even then they vowed that nothing short of death would keep them from one another.
****
Present
Zonyai interlocked his fingers with Marbella’s. “You okay?”
“Peachy,” She managed a halfhearted smile. He leaned in to kiss her but the sound of tires screeching to a halt beside them gave him pause. He looked over her shoulder and saw a fat masked gunman rocking a ski-mask and clenching his teeth. He could tell that it was Franklin from the shapes of his eyes and mannerisms. Zonyai’s eyes bulged and he gasped seeing him stick a .9mm Beretta out the window of an old Chevy Blazer.
“Get down!” Zonyai called out, pulling Marbella down into his lap and he ducking behind her back just before gunfire erupted. Boc! Boc! Boc! Boc! Copper colored bullets shattered the glass as they shot through the passenger window, raining shards upon him and his lady. As soon as the Franklin ceased fire to reload, Zonyai punched the hazard lights, the A.C and knocked on the dashboard; the stereo popped out like a cash register drawer revealing a secret compartment that held a .45 automatic handgun. He grabbed his piece and threw open the driver side door, ready to get active. Once his Gucci loafers touched the pavement and he brought his .45 over the roof of his car, he saw fat boy smack a fresh magazine into his banger and swing his door open.
Poc! Poc! Poc! Poc! Poc!
Bullets struck the Blazer’s door and shattered its driver side window, broken pieces raining to the ground.
“You think you just gon’ take my wife, nigger? Huh?” Franklin hollered out, sticking his black thang back out of the window.
Urrrrrrk! Boc! Boc! Boc! Boc!
He sped away from the shootout, turning his head and arm still letting his heat go the fuck off. Boc! Boc! Boc! Boc! Boc! Holes exploded in the hood of the Maserati and imploded its windshield. Zonyai chased behind him as fast as he could on one good leg, firing his .45 as he went along. He managed to shatter the back window but he was sure the crime boss went unscathed. Right then, he ejected the spent magazine from his smoking gun and injected a new one.
“Are you Okay? Haa! Haa! Haa!” Zonyai breathed heavily, approaching Marbella. “Were you hit?”
“I’m okay.” She cried, being held in the arms of her one true love. “Franklin’s not gonna stop, babe. He’ll send his men and they’ll chase us to the end of the earth and gun us down.” She looked up into Zonyai’s eyes. He blew hard and massaged the bridge of his nose. He looked up the street in the direction the Blazer sped down. He knew he had to do all that was in his power to protect the woman he loved.
An hour later
“Yeahhhh, so I was thinking we hit up the movies tonight.” Wayne said into his cellular which he was cradling to his ear with his shoulder and rolling up a swisher. He was perched on the couch, eyes going from the task at hand to the television screen. Empire was on.
“Yeah, Straight out of Compton, I can fuck with that.”
Knocks at the door brought his conversation to a halt. He told old girl that he was on the jack with that he’d chop it up with her later. Before he got up to answer the door, he fired up that good, good and took a couple of draws. Once he placed the L into the ashtray, he grabbed his burner from off the coffee table and approached the door. He looked through the peephole to see who it was on the other side. Identifying who it was that had come through; he tucked the banger in the front of his gray Dickies. Once he’d let Zonyai inside, they dapped each other up and exchanged a brotherly hug.
“What’s up witchu, boy?” Wayne’s forehead crinkled having seen the concern on Zonyai’s face.
“Where that nigga Brolic at? I need to holler at y’all real quick.” He looked about in search for his brother from another.
“Pops is in the bathroom, man. Hold up, I’ll go get ‘em.” The young nigga retreated down the hallway.
****
Brolic stood before the medicine cabinet mirror looking over his muscular physique. Every part of him was toned and bulging. There were veins everywhere. The hoodlum loved his body which was the reason why he didn’t have any tattoos on him. He felt that getting inked up would ruin what he spent years sculpting, but now he was having second thoughts. He was honestly thinking about getting something done going straight across his chest which was why he was looking himself over thoroughly. See, he wanted to make sure that he was getting the work he wanted done in the right place.
“Yeah, I’ma get that shit right here,” Brolic swept his hand across his bulging pecks where he’d planned on getting his tattoo. “Right across my chest in old English letters; that shit is gon’ be hard, on mommas.”
Knock! Knock! Knock!
“Hold up.” He said, still looking over his tattoo.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
He looked over his shoulder and called out, “Who is it? Shit.”
“That nigga Yai drop through.” Wayne’s voice boomed from the opposite side of the door.
He looked back to the mirror, slipping his wife beater back over his head he said, “Alright, I’m coming out now.”
Brolic gave himself the once over one last time before taking his leave.
****
“What’s up with it, Yai?” Brolic came from down the hallway, dapping up his man. The muscle bound thug plopped down on the couch. He picked up the blunt that Wayne had abandoned in the ashtray and took a couple puffs, blowing out a cloud of smoke.
“I gotta situation.” Zonyai didn’t waste any time getting to the point as he sat down on the arm of the couch. His body was position at the television but his head was turn facing his nigga.
Brolic shook his head like something was a shame, rolling his eyes and blew hot air. “And I bet my left nut it’s behind that bitch, right?”
“Watch cho mouth, nigga!” Zonyai’s brows meshed together, not feeling his homie’s lack of respect for his lady.
“I knew it, I fucking knew it!” Brolic swung on the air and sat up on the couch.
“What happened?” Wayne asked, before taking a couple of puffs from the blunt.
“The fat man found out about us fucking around again and got at me, dawg.”
“Whaaat?” Wayne looked alive, mashing the L out in the ashtray.
“Fasa know about this?” Brolic inquired, forehead wrinkling.
“Hell nah, if he finds out I’m still fucking with Bella, I’ma dead man. Told me that when I finally woke up from outta my coma.”
“Y’all niggaz know it’s about to be some shit now.” Wayne looked between both men. If there was going to be then he was ready, he was with the shit.
“Most def’.” Zonyai nodded.
“It’s a pretty open and shut case to me. Them niggaz got at chu, now it’s time that they get got, straight up.”
“When this shit gets out I can expect to get it from both sides; Mufasa and Franklin. Cats from both sides will be gunning at me. I wouldn’t know who was friend or foe, besides you two niggaz.” He threw up a finger. If no one was down for him the two thug ass niggaz sitting before him was. That he was positive of.
“Well, what chu plan to do?” Brolic questioned.
“I think the best thing for me to do is get outta town and lay low for a while. I need to figure out my next...”
“What? Don’t tell me you thinking of tucking your tail between your legs and running off like some bitch! It’s time to get active with these niggaz, show’em your heart don’t pump no Kool-Aide, Cuz.” He slammed his fist into his palm repeatedly for emphasis, face s
crunching up causing him to look like an angry dog. “You know my gangsta is international. I got hittas all over the globe. I got niggaz outta ATL, Chicago, Virginia, Miami, Milwaukee, Kansas, and Tennessee.”
“True that, my pops ties runs deep.” Wayne spoke from where he was now standing, folding his arms across his chest.
“Still, I think I should lay low for a while until I figure out how to get at these niggaz. I mean we’re talking about to families coming at me and I don’t know if we’ve gotta ‘nough...”
“You old Muhammad Ali ass nigga, scared to go to war,” A balled up face Brolic waved Zonyai off.
“Don’t chu ever disrespect me again, mothafucka, that best friend shit will only getchu so far,” Zonyai shot to his feet, stepping to the thug with a finger in his face. “You as well as anybody should know how I give it up out here in these streets. My G should never come into question.” He glared at him with a pair of twisted lips.
“You see that?” Brolic looked to Wayne smiling fiendishly, who was oblivious to what he was talking about. “I know you see it ‘cause me and you are right here,” he motioned two fingers between their points of vision. “That’s the mothafucka that we need out there in the field when we bring it to these other mothafuckaz. A general, ready to lead and order deaths, you feel me?” He looked to Zonyai, seriousness bleeding from his eyes. “I don’t know who you are, but fuck Yai. Yai ain’t my nigga no more. You my nigga now, and I fucks witchu the long way.” He pounded his balled fist against his chest.
Zonyai took a deep breath as he shook his head, throwing up a hand he said, “I’m outta here,” He pulled open the door and turned back around, “I’m leaving Cali tonight; y’all got my number if you need me.”
He slammed the door on the way out and the impact rattled the portraits hung on the wall. As soon as he was gone, Wayne focused his attention on Brolic.
“Fuck was all of that about?” Wayne asked with furrowed brows.
“Ain’t shit,” Brolic relit the L that was lying in the ashtray and leaned back on the couch, throwing his muscular arm over the top of it, “niggaz gon’ get dealt with one way or another.”
