by Askari
Rahmello got up from the workshop table and approached them. “It ain’t nothin’. It used to bother me at first, but now,” he shrugged his shoulders, “I kinda like the smell. It reminds me of power.”
“Power?” Zaire asked while laying Mexican Bobby on the ground. “What the fuck does power have to do wit’ this stinkin’ ass barn?”
Rahmello smiled. “Come wit’ me over to the fence. I wanna show y’all somethin’.”
Egypt and Zaire followed him to the edge of the makeshift swamp and were blown away when they locked eyes on the massive reptiles.
“Goddamn!” Egypt looked at Rahmello, and then pointed toward the alligators. “Yo, them jawns big as shit!”
Rahmello directed their attention to T-Rex. A deep groan escaped his body and he wagged his tail back and forth. He groaned once more, and then stretched his mouth wide open. He paused for a few seconds then in the blink of an eye he forcefully clamped his jaws together.
Clap!
“Yizzeah,” Rahmello smiled and nodded his head up and down. “Now, that’s what the fuck I call power!”
“Hey yo, Crocodile Dundee!” Breeze called out in a sarcastic tone. “Where you want me to put this nigga?”
Rahmello pointed at the workshop bench. “Lay his as right there and put his head in between the vice grips. I’ll be over there in a minute.” He returned his attention to the twins. “I know y’all gon’ help me feed ‘em, right?”
“What?” Egypt asked. He looked at Rahmello like he was crazy, and backed away from the fence. “Yo, you buggin’ right now scrap. I ain’t got no problems when it comes to blowin’ a mutha’fucka’s face off. But feedin’ niggas to alligators,” he shook his head from side to side. “You can count me out, Blood. I’m good.”
Rahmello laughed at him, and then looked at Zaire. “What about you?”
“Nigga, I’m wit’ it.”
They approached the workbench where Breeze was strapping down Mexican Bobby’s naked body. Rahmello reached under the table to grab the blowtorch and sparker that The Butcher gave him. He pressed the lever on the blowtorch and placed the sparker directly in front of the barrel. He squeezed the sparker, and like magic the blowtorch came to life. He looked at Breeze. “Yo, wake his ass up.”
Slap!
“W—W—What de fuck homes?” Mexican Bobby slurred. He was still oblivious to the fact that he’d been kidnapped. He glanced around the barn, and then one by one, he looked into the faces of his captors. “Yo, homes! What de fuck is this? Where’s Chico?”
Instead of responding, Rahmello caressed his abdomen with the blue flame.
“Aaagggghhhh! Ay dios mio! What de fuck homes!”
The skin on his stomach bubbled up and blackened, and the aroma of burnt flesh added another element to the barn’s funky odor.
Rahmello removed the flame from its target, and then looked at Breeze. “Reach under the table and grab the pliers and the box cutter.” He then returned his gaze to the Mexican. “It’s niggas like you that got the game turned upside down Bobby. Jails is gettin’ packed ‘cause of niggas like you, and the cops ain’t even gotta do they jobs no more. Y’all rattin’ ass niggas is doin’ all the work for ‘em!”
“Please!” Mexican Bobby cried. “Don’t do me like dis homes! I’m not a rat! I swear to God!”
Rahmello smiled at him. “I don’t know about that, Bobby. There’s some important people who say otherwise.” He grabbed the pliers from Breeze, and then waved them in front of Mexican Bobby’s face. “This is what we gon’ do, you gon’ open ya mouth and stick out ya tongue, and if you don’t,” he shrugged his shoulders, “I’ma torch ya whole body.” He aimed the torch at his dick. “Startin’ wit’ that.”
“No!” the little Mexican screamed.
Rahmello chuckled. “Well, I guess we have an understanding.”
Begrudgingly, Mexican Bobby stuck out his tongue and cringed when Rahmello squeezed it with the teeth of the pliers.
“Agggghhhh!”
“Pussy shut the fuck up! If anything I’m doin’ ya ass a fuckin’ favor! It’s ya tongue that got you in this shit in the first place! You should be thankin’ me!” He handed the blowtorch to Egypt. “Start cookin’ this nigga! My young buls like to eat they rats well done.”
Mexican Bobby screamed in pain as the blue flame sizzled the lower half of his body. All the while, Rahmello was still holding his tongue with the pliers. He motioned for Breeze to hand him the box cutter, then reached inside of Mexican Bobby’s mouth, and severed the pink piece of flesh.
The little man’s eyes blinked rapidly as he slipped in and out of consciousness. Rahmello handed the tongue to Breeze, and Breeze placed it inside of a zip lock bag. Thereafter, he placed the tongue inside of the cooler that was sitting on the ground beside the workbench.
Rahmello removed a Smith & Wessin .40 from the small of his back, and then passed the gun to Zaire.
“Rock this nigga.”
Zaire aimed the barrel at Mexican Bobby’s forehead and squeezed the trigger.
Boc!
Instantly, a black hole appeared in between his eyebrows and crimson red blood eased from the wound. The aroma of burnt flesh and fresh blood drove the alligators into a frenzy. Their huge lungs produced moans and groans that Breeze and the twins had never heard before, and their long tails splashed against the surface of the muddy water.
“Settle down!” Rahmello shouted at the alligators. “I’ll be over there in a minute.”
He walked over to the coat rack and grabbed The Butcher’s work coat. It was a rubber yellow trench coat, and its sole purpose was to shield a butcher from the spraying of blood while chopping up meat. He slipped inside of the coat and threw on a pair of goggles. He then grabbed an electrical saw from the tool shelf, and returned to the workbench.
“Y’all need to back up a lil’ bit,” he said while starting the motor on the saw. “It’s about to be blood everywhere.”
They did as he suggested, and watched him from a safe distance as he put the saw to work. The time that he’d spent around The Butcher was evident, and he sawed through Mexican Bobby’s wrist with such precision that if they didn’t know any better they would’ve swore he worked in a butcher’s shop.
After severing his hands, Rahmello placed them inside of a zip lock bag and laid them in the cooler beside his tongue. Next, he motioned for Breeze to loosen the restraints that held him to the table, and together they carried him over to the swamp where T-Rex and Godzilla were anxiously waiting. They tossed his mutilated corpse over the fence, and the hungry alligators wasted no time. T-Rex gripped his head, shoulder, and torso with one bite, while Godzilla locked on his waist. Simultaneously, their powerful bodies, propelled by their tails violently spun in opposite directions, ripping Mexican Bobby in half.
“Ooooohhhhh shit!” the twins stated in unison.
They couldn’t believe how easily the man was ripped in half. Breeze cringed from the sounds of snapping bones and tearing flesh.
Rahmello, on the other hand, was smiling at the alligators like a proud poppa. He sparked up a Black & Mild and took a deep pull as the two reptiles disappeared under the murky water with Mexican Bobby locked in between their jaws.
Chapter Thirteen
The day had finally arrived for Sheed to be released from the county jail, and Jasmyn was a nervous wreck. For the past two weeks she’d been doing everything in her power to welcome him home accordingly. She cleaned her small apartment from top to bottom, bought him a new wardrobe, and stocked up on sexy lingerie. Now that the day was finally here, she was parked across the street in front of the beer distributor, nervously anticipating what she presumed to be the end of her career. It was a cardinal sin for a corrections officer to be involved with an inmate, and if anyone saw her picking him up, not only would this verify the rumors that the two of them were an item, it would also be the infraction that earned her, her walking papers.
***
It was 10:00 a.m. when Sheed em
erged from the intake room and walked through the front gate. Damn, a nigga finally up out this mutha’fucka! he thought to himself as his eyes scoured the free world. The early December leaves were a bright yellow orange, and the grass a dark green. He couldn’t believe it. Something as simple as the sight of a baby squirrel running behind its mother was enough to make him enjoy his newfound freedom. He looked across the street and spotted Jasmyn’s forest green Mazda 929. It was sitting in the parking lot of the beer distributor, and he began walking in her direction. The closer he got to the car he could see that she was crouched down in the driver’s seat, hiding behind her tinted windows. He approached the driver’s side door and gently tapped on the window.
“Damn,” he smiled and held out his arms for emphasis. “No hug? No kiss? No nuffin?” he teased her.
She pouted at him through the window. “Come on boo, stop playin’. If somebody sees me I’ma fuck around and lose my job.”
“Your job? What job?” He continued smiling, then pointed behind him toward the jail. “Oh, you mean that c.o. shit? Yo, that’s over wit’ ma.” He opened the driver’s side door and gently pulled her out of the car. He then, removed her oversized Chanel shades and gave her a passionate kiss. Despite her soft moans, she smacked him on the shoulder.
“Stop it, Rasheed. You’re gonna get me fired.” No sooner then she said it, a black Cadillac ATS pulled up beside her 929, and the tinted driver’s side window rolled down. It was her supervisor Lieutenant Brown. He looked Sheed up and down, and then scowled at Jasmyn.
Sheed ice grilled him. “Fuck is you lookin’ at, dawg?”
Lieutenant Brown didn’t respond. Instead, he just shook his head from side to side, rolled up his window, and pulled off.
“See Sheed!” Jasmyn whined. “Fuckin’ wit’ you I’ma lose my job!”
He gently grabbed her by the chin and gazed into her eyes. “Yo, what’s the matter witchu?”
Her face turned bright red and she began to cry. “I’ma get fired for this. Me and my daughter need this job, and obviously you don’t give a fuck. I’m so stupid for fallin’ in love witcha ass.”
“Baby girl,” he replied in a soft tone, “do I look like the type of nigga that would let my wifey work inside of a prison?” Defiantly, she folded her arms across her chest, and looked away. He guided her face back to his. “Again, do I look like the type of nigga that would let his wifey work inside of a prison?”
“No,” she answered. “But—”
“But nuffin,” he interrupted her. “You wit’ me now.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that you ain’t gotta do nuffin but look beautiful and help me spend this bread.”
“Whatever Sheed.” She climbed back in the car and slammed the door. Sheed chuckled, and then walked around the front of the car and climbed in the passenger’s side.
“Look Jas, just know that I love you and that I’ma hold you down. You’ll never have to look no further than me.”
She shook her head in disbelief, and then started the car. “Like I said, whatever Sheed.”
He leaned over the center console and kissed the side of her face. “You gon’ have to relax and start trustin’ me. I said I got you, right?”
His smooth words lightened the mood, and she turned to face him. “Are you sellin’ me a dream or are you really gon’ be there for me?”
“First of all, I don’t sell no dreams. Especially to the people I love. Just to show you how much I love and care about you, I’ma cop you a new whip ‘cause this ol’ ass 929 ain’t cuttin’ it. After that, sometime this week I want you to start lookin’ for a new house.”
A huge smile appeared on her face as she pulled out of the parking lot and made a right turn on State Road.
“Do you still need me to take you to Germantown to see ya brother?”
“Yeah,” he reclined back in the leather seat and sparked up a Newport, “and after that you already know.”
She licked her lips, and then reached over to massage his dick through his pants. “So whatchu sayin’? Is it gon’ be Mr. Nasty Time?”
He closed his eyes and exhaled a cloud of smoke. “Umm! Girl you better stop playin’ wit’ me.”
***
In Upper Dublin, Pennsylvania
Sonny was seated at the island in the middle of his kitchen. He was finishing his breakfast and reading the Philadelphia Daily Newspaper. The front page displayed an image of the shot up SUV from the night before, and he was surprised to find out that the victim was the mayor’s personal assistant. This was obviously the talk of the city. Every local news station was covering the murder, and even Nancy Grace, the correspondent from CNN had weighed in on the topic.
As he took a swig from his glass of orange juice he heard the click clack of Daphney’s Christian Louboutin pumps walking down the hallway. He looked up from the newspaper just as she was entering the kitchen. Her silky black hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her black Fendi frames added an elegant look to her beautiful face. Her gray Fendi business suit hugged her curvaceous body just right, and her Chanel 5 perfume was intoxicating. “I’m on my way to the office,” she stated, and then gave him a juicy kiss. “And don’t forget about tonight,” she reminded him of their dinner date at Applebee’s.
It was the anniversary of their first date, and to celebrate they made reservations at the restaurant where they shared their first meal.
“Come on ma, you know I’m on point,” he said as he reached inside of his bathrobe pocket and pulled out a white envelope. “I need you to drop these off to Savino. It’s copies of Imani’s birth certificate and social security card.”
He handed her the envelope and she stuffed it inside of her crocodile skin handbag.
“I gotchu, daddy. I’ve been workin’ on it ever since you told me about it last night. It’s a good thing you already had this information because if you didn’t it might’ve made things a lil’ harder.”
“I know,” Sonny nodded his head. “Giving me these papers and making me Imani’s godfather was the best thing that Nahfisah could’ve done. Make sure you tell Savino that I want my niece outta that foster home a.s.a.p. No excuses.”
Daphney took a piece of turkey bacon off of his plate and placed it inside her mouth. “I gotchu, bae. Just so you know, ya daughter’s in the living room watching Dora The Explorer so keep an ear out for her.” She leaned forward to kiss him, and then headed toward the back door. “And when you drop her off at your mom’s house, let her know that I’ll be droppin’ Dayshon off around 4 o’clock.”
“I gotchu, love.” He knocked down the rest of his orange juice and admired the way her ass jiggled as she headed toward the back door. “Daph, don’t forget to start the paperwork on the house for Nahfisah.”
She blew him a kiss, and then walked out the door. He grabbed his iPhone from the counter and called Easy.
Ring! Ring! Ring!
“Hello,” Easy answered.
“What’s up, pops? You good?” he asked, referring to their argument from the night before. Easy took a deep breath and exhaled. “Yeah I’m alright, but how’s your sister?”
“She’ll be a’ight. I admitted her to the rehab center in Eaglesville, and I got Savino pushin’ the paperwork to get Imani out of that foster home.”
“Alright, well whatever I can do to help out just let me know,” Easy replied in a somber tone.
“She’s goin’ through a lot right now, and I didn’t wanna make shit more complicated than it already is. That’s the reason I didn’t tell her that she was my sister. At this point I just need her to get better.”
“That definitely sounds like a plan,” Easy encouraged him.
“A’ight pops, now lemme change the subject real quick. What’s up with the package? Did Mello drop it off last night?”
“Yeah, it’s outside in the garage. I told him to put it in the deep freezer.”
“A’ight well look, I got a lot of shit to do today, so
I’ma need you to take that package to Poncho for me.”
“Come on Sontino,” Easy complained. “You always findin’ a way to throw a monkey wrench in the game. Me and your mom had plans to spend the day with Fat-Fat and D-Day.”
“Pops,” he responded in a stern voice. “I need you to make that happen.”
“Alright man, damn! But it’s gon’ have to be later on tonight.”
“Good lookin’, pops.”
He disconnected the call, and then dialed the number to the prepaid phone that he gave to Heemy.
Ring! Ring! Ring! Ring! Ring!
“Hello,” Heemy finally answered. “Sonny?”
“Yeah this me, lil’ homie. Where you at?”
“Damn dawg, you caught me at a bad time,” Heemy stated, shaking his head in disappointment. This was the call that he’d been waiting for, and now that it finally came through he wasn’t in the position to do anything. “I’m at school right now.”
“School huh? That’s good shit. I can definitely respect it. What time you gettin’ out?”
“At 2:30,” he quickly replied.
“A’ight, I’ma pick you up. What school you go to? Franklin or Penn?”
“I go to Benjamin Franklin.”
“Say no more. I’ll be there at 2:30 and make sure you got ya man witchu.”
Click!
After disconnecting the call he placed his scraps on the kitchen floor, and then called out for Rocko. “Where you at boy! Come eat!”
A couple of seconds later, the large Rottweiler followed by Keyonti entered the kitchen. Sonny patted him on the head and smiled at his little girl. Her thick dark hair was plaited into four pigtails with pink barrettes on the ends, and she was dressed in a pink Polo jumper and a white long sleeved Polo shirt.
“Up up, dada! Up up!” she demanded with her arms stretched in the air. He picked her up and covered her face with kisses. “You wanna go see mimaw and paw-paw?”
“Yesh!” she smiled from ear to ear, and then nodded her head up and down. “Fat-Fat want mimaw and paw-paw!”
