Dynasty

by Dutch

  A smile spread across his face when he saw his beautiful cousins, Asia and Brooklyn. They ran up to him and smothered him with a double hug, making every dude around wish they were him.

  “What up, y’all? What you doin’ down here? Tito sent the crew with you?” Ty asked.

  Asia and Brooklyn looked at each other and bust out laughing.

  “What?” Ty inquired, because apparently he had missed the joke.

  Asia reached out and pinched his cheek, with a wink. “Baby… we are the crew.”

  “Ay yo, Tito, what the fuck is goin’ on?” Ty huffed into the phone.

  He was standing in his kitchen watching Asia and Brooklyn in his living room, dancing to music videos being girls.

  “Fam, calm down. Believe me, the twins is official. They like pitbulls in a skirt,” Tito assured him.

  Ty shook his head in frustration. Watching them in the living room they looked like two dizzy broads.

  “T, I’m tellin’ you, this shit down here is serious. You may think this shit country, but ain’t shit slow but our walk. That, set-a-nigguh-up-wit-a-chick is played! These nigguhs we gettin’ at ain’t goin’ for it!” Ty barked.

  “Don’t let the smooth taste fool you, Fam. Put ‘em to the test, you’ll see.”

  Click.

  Ty put his phone down wondering what kind of game Tito was playing. He already had their aliases being checked, so in the meantime, he damn sure intended on putting them to the test.

  Vee, Rome and Banks sat in a doublewide trailer outside of Durham that they used as a stash house. The TV was on, but no one was watching it. Vee eyed the two men evenly, his .40 caliber gripped in his palm. He knew, of the two men, one of them had betrayed him. He had known both men ever since he had came to Durham, since they had been broke. He had broke bread, did dirt and held them down, but the larceny in one of their hearts had caused them to go against the team. Greed had won out over loyalty, and now, one of them had to pay.

  “Ay yo, dawg, I know shit is serious but is the gun really necessary?” Rome asked, shifting in his seat.

  “Rome, you act like it make you nervous. It don’t, do it?” Vee asked, scratching his ear.

  “Naw, dawg, but goddamn, we ‘posed to be family,” Rome replied.

  Vee chuckled. “I used to feel the same way… now… I’m not so sure.”

  “So what are we waitin’ for? When we movin’ on them nigguhs?” Banks wanted to know.

  “I’m just waitin’ on the call, then we out.”

  Five minutes of tense silence later, Vee’s phone rang.

  “Yo,” Vee spoke into the phone.

  “Ay yo, Vee, this hospital shit is cool. Same muhfuckas they got out here playin’ the perimeter, no more no less. They ain’t even move the old man,” Mike G informed him. Vee had put him down on the plan to trap either Rome or Banks.

  “Cool,” Vee responded then hung up. He looked at his two partners. “That’s one,” he told them cryptically.

  They looked at each other in confusion. The phone rang again.

  “Yo,” Vee answered.

  “Vee, you sure the wedding was today?” one of Vee’s Lieutenants asked.

  “Positive.”

  The lieutenant chuckled. “Well then, I guess the groom got cold feet or the bitch jumped the fence! Ain’t shit happenin’ at the church… not even a choir rehearsal!”

  “Cool.” Vee hung up then stood up slowly. “Y’all ready to do this?”

  Both men visibly relaxed seeing that everything was on point… or so they thought. As Banks stood up, Vee slapped the shit out of him with the pistol. His forehead split and blood dripped down his face as he slumped on the couch.

  “You’se a greedy piece of shit, Banks,” Vee gritted.

  Rome looked at Vee. “Naw, dawg, tell me this nigguh ain’t set us up!”

  “Tell ‘em!” Vee shouted at Banks, kicking his leg. “Tell Rome you ain’t do it!”

  “I swear, Vee, it wasn’t—”

  Vee slapped him with the pistol three more times then put it to his head. “Tell him you did it, nigguh!”

  “Vee, man,” Banks sobbed, “Man I-I fucked up… this nigguh said he’d kill my family, dawg!”

  “You expect me to believe that?! Huh?! You pussy muhfucka, you lyin’! You just a greedy nigguh, Banks!”

  “No, Vee, I swear!”

  “The nigguh promised to put you on, if you got rid of us, didn’t he?!” Vee surmised correctly.

  “No!” Banks lied.

  “You had to have it all! Get us out the way and you’d be the man,” Vee shook his head with a chuckle. “You was too greedy to see that once you got us, he was gonna kill yo’ dumb ass,” Vee laughed.

  “No, Vee, man… man, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Banks sobbed like a new born baby.

  By now, Rome had his pistol out.

  “Vee, let me be the one to kill this nigguh! Rico was my cousin!”

  “Not now, Rome, ‘cause first Banks gonna make shit right, ain’t you, B?”

  “Yeah, Vee, anything, Vee, anything,” Banks assured him.

  “You gonna call Kev… tell him you ready to do me yourself. Tell him Rome and Mike G is wit’ you, but he gotta put them on, too. Tell him the price is fifty g’s. When you meet him, you gonna kill him. You got that?” Vee explained.

  Banks nodded.

  “You sure? ‘Cause if you don’t, we gonna kill yo’ family, B. One by one and make you watch,” Vee told him. “You hear me, nigguh?!”

  “Yeah, Vee. I got you man, I got you,” Banks replied, wiping his tears. “But afterwards… what about me?”

  Vee smiled. “You a dead man walking.”

  Ty and Kev sat in the front of the late model Ford Bronco, while Asia and Brooklyn sat in the back. They were parked near the corner of the next block over from the church in Greenville where Dino’s wedding was to be held. The church block was quiet, except for a few cars parked on the block. Two of which held young Hardy and his crew and another crew of gunners that worked for Kev. Ty had a few cats posted up on each end of the block and one van full of shooters that circulated the block.

  They had been sitting there for two hours and Ty was getting restless. Every few minutes, he’d chirp his team like, “Anything?”

  Chirp! Chirp!

  “Nothing.”

  The only sounds in the car were Asia and Brooklyn. It seemed like they talked non-stop, thought Ty. All the chatter about was designer clothes, hot music and what rapper probably had the biggest dick was getting on Ty’s last nerve.

  “Ay yo, Asia! Brooklyn! Goddamn, do you mind?!” Ty barked from the driver’s seat.

  Both girls got quiet instantly.

  “My bad, Ty,” Asia apologized.

  “Yeah, Cuz, we just killin’ time,” Brooklyn added.

  “Naw, y’all killin’ my ears,” he mumbled then he turned to Kev. “Yo, Brah, they ain’t comin’.”

  Kev looked around before answering, “Just give ‘em a few more minutes.”

  “A few more?? Kev, we been layin’ on these nigguhs two hours already. I know Vee, if he ain’t here by now, he ain’t comin’.”

  “They already came through,” Asia told them.

  Ty looked at her through the rear view. “What?”

  “They already came through. First, the cat came through in a grey Taurus. He came straight through the intersection,” Asia explained. “Then the same Taurus came up the other intersection at the other end of the block,” Brooklyn said.

  “How you know it was them?” Kev inquired.

  “ ‘Cause the same dude came through a half hour later in a burgundy Yukon,” Brooklyn replied.

  “Why you ain’t say nothing?” Ty huffed.

  Asia shrugged. “We thought you seen ‘em, too.”

  Ty was hot. He didn’t want to seem like he wasn’t on point, especially by two cackling chicks. He had already had their aliases ran and they hadn’t been in NC when Guy got shot. At least not under those aliases.
/>   “And, yo, you see the woods behind the church parking lot? Look real close, see the path? You got muhfuckas on both corners, but that path—” Asia began but Ty cut her off.

  Ty chirped his phone. “Yo, K. Step out.”

  A cat stepped out of the path that Asia pointed to. Ty looked at her through the rearview with a smug grin that said, you ain’t got all the sense.

  “Oh,” Asia shrugged then turned back to Brooklyn like, “Anyway, you know what’s real hot?” And they went back to their never ending conversation.

  Ty just started the car, shaking his head. “Call off the dogs, Kev. We out.”

  Kev didn’t protest, seeing that the spot had already been blown.

  The four of them sat in Kev’s stash apartment in Greenville. Kev and Ty were discussing the situation, while Asia and Brooklyn had a conversation of their own. Someone knocked on the door and Kev answered it. Hardy and his man Markie walked in.

  “Aww look at the little cuties, Asia,” Brooklyn chimed.

  Hardy didn’t pay them any attention but Markie smiled at the girls.

  “What up, Kev, what you need me to do now?” Hardy asked.

  Kev smiled proudly. The young boy was a true soldier.

  “Just chill, Hardy. I’m waitin’ to hear from my man now,” Kev replied.

  Hearing the name Hardy made Ty’s ear perk up. “Oh… so you young Hardy, huh? Kev told me a lot about you, lil’ homie,” Ty greeted, shaking his hand.

  Hardy smirked, proud to be acknowledged by the infamous Ty Simmons. “What up, Ty, how you?”

  Markie was sitting between Asia and Brooklyn, smiling ear to ear. Hardy sat in the love seat across from Ty.

  “Yo… you some kin to Brah Hardy?” Ty inquired.

  “Yeah.”

  Kev’s phone rang and he answered it.

  “Check this out, dawg, I need to get in touch wit’ yo’ uncle. You know where he at?” Ty asked.

  “Naw, Ty, I ain’t really seen him since he came home. He around though… what up?” Hardy replied.

  “Ain’t nothin’ really, I just need to holla at him. I got at a few of your other uncles, but they ain’t seen him either. I’m like, damn, dude must be in the cut,” Ty chuckled, attempting to mask his frustration.

  Hardy could feel it though. He knew Guy Simmons had got hit in the ‘boro and he knew how the Simmons’ and Hardy’s didn’t fuck with each other, so he felt that Ty wanted to bring some type of beef to Uncle Brah. He may’ve been loyal to Kev, but blood was thicker.

  “Naw, dawg, I wish I could help you. I see him on the fly sometime. I’ll tell him to get at you,” Hardy offered.

  Ty looked at the young boy and could tell he was lying. Inside, Ty started to boil because he felt like Hardy was trying to play on his intelligence. Ty leaned forward in his chair. “My, nigguh… you know what happened to my pop?” Ty asked directly.

  Asia and Brooklyn instantly ceased their chatter.

  “Yeah, and like I told Kev, I was truly sorry to hear that. I fucks wit’ Kev like that, so I’m wit’ y’all nigguhs for what-ever,” Hardy vowed.

  Kev ended his call. “Ty, what up, brah?” Kev wanted to know.

  Ty didn’t answer, instead he kept his eyes on Hardy. Hardy kept his eyes on Ty. It was becoming a test of wills to see which would break.

  “Check this out,” Ty began, standing up and pulling his pistol, “I’ma ask you one mo’ motherfuckin’ time, yo. Where… is… Brah?!”

  Hardy could feel his pistol tucked in his waist. He wanted to reach but he new he’d never make it. He shrugged. “My, nigguh, I don’t care how many pistols you pull… I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”

  “Yo, Hardy, we just wanna talk to Brah,” Kev tried to assure him. He remembered Ty mentioning the name to him before, so he wanted to holla at Brah, too.

  “Yo’ guess is as good as mine,” Hardy smirked, and it was the smirk that sent Ty over the edge.

  Ty grabbed Hardy by his dreads and began pistol whipping the nigguh unmercifully. Markie started to go help Hardy and found a .38 snub under his chin courtesy of Asia.

  “Be easy, playboy,” Asia whispered, “stay outta grown folks affairs.”

  Ty beat Hardy until his arm got tired, then he relieved Hardy of his pistol. Blood covered his shirt. One of Hardy’s eyes was swollen shut and blood ran down his face like sweat, but he was still conscious. He spit out his tooth.

  “So it’s like that, Kev? You just gonna flip on me like that?” Hardy wanted to know.

  Kev did feel a tinge of guilt, because he knew Hardy was a good nigguh. But Ty was his brother and blood was thicker.

  “You brought it on yourself, yo. We just wanna talk to Brah, and you actin’ like it’s something to hide,” Kev answered.

  Hardy eyed Ty hard. “Nigguh, you might as well kill me—”

  Boom!

  Everyone looked in the direction of the sound of the gunshot to find Markie’s brains all over the wall and Asia holding the smoking gun. “Ask him again.”

  Her actions surprised Ty because he truly didn’t see it in her. But now he knew why Tito sent the twins.

  “Bitch, you killed my man?!! My man?! Fuck all y’all! You, you, you, and you!” Hardy barked, looking at Ty. “Kill me ‘cause I ain’t tellin’ you shit!”

  Brooklyn stood up from the couch. “Oh I get it now, you a gangsta!” she chuckled. “Like, you for real? I wanna see. Kev, you know where the gangsta mama live?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Take me there.”

  Just the mention of his mother made Hardy try to lunge out of the chair, but Ty caught him with a swift hook that crumbled him to the floor.

  “Ty, you wait here wit’ Scarface, boo. Let me handle this,” Brooklyn assured him as she, Asia and Kev left out.

  As they waited, Ty tried to talk to Hardy, softening his approach. “’Lil homie, word up, you a soldier… I know I gotta kill you and me being a soldier, you know I gotta kill you. But shit is real. I feel like Brah had somethin’ to do wit’ my pops. If he didn’t, no foul. This shit end wit’ you. But, yo, your moms ain’t got shit to do with this.”

  “Nigguh, fuck you and your goddamn daddy! I hope he die chokin’ on his own blood!” Hardy spat.

  Ty spazzed out and beat the nigguh unconscious. He woke him up when Brooklyn called him from Hardy’s mama house.

  “Wake up, lil’ homie, somebody wanna speak to you,” Ty said, smacking him then putting the phone on speaker.

  “Yo, Cuzzo, tell the gangsta this,” Brooklyn said.

  Hardy was groggy but he could clearly hear his two year old son crying and his mom asking, “who these women in my house?”

  “Ask yo’ son,” Asia replied.

  “Taveres! What’s goin’ on?!”

  Hardy’s baby mama was spazzin’.

  Boom!

  The shot seemed to rock the phone. The baby screamed and his mother prayed.

  “What up blood, what up cuz, what up gang-sta!” Brooklyn sang the 50 Cent hook into the phone, giggling. “Don’t worry, your baby moms wasn’t all that cute anyway.

  Hardy dropped his head.

  “Talk to me, lil’ homie,” Ty urged.

  Hardy remained silent.

  “Yo, Fam, he still ain’t talkin’,” Ty told her.

  “Say goodbye to your son, yo,” Brooklyn hissed.

  “Daddy!” the young child screamed.

  Boom!

  Hardy’s whole body convulsed. He tried to get up, but his ribs were broke and every part of his body ached.

  “Noooo!” Hardy bellowed, picturing his son’s little lifeless body. His spirit was broke. He had called their bluff and lost. Now the only thing left was his mom or his pride.

  “What’s it gonna be?” Ty smirked at him. He was truly impressed by the young boy.

  Hardy glared at him.

  “Taveres, please! Tell them what they want to know!” his mother begged.

  The pleas of his mother dissolved his pride instantly. He k
new he was gonna die and he was okay knowing his son would be with him. But his mother was something different.

  “Ay, Cuzzo—” Ty started to say, but Hardy cut him off.

  “I’ll tell you,” he whispered through clenched teeth.

  “Huh? What was that?” Ty taunted, leaning down close to his mouth.

  “I said… I’ll… tell you,” Hardy gritted.

  Ty smiled then said to Brooklyn, “Fall back, Cuzzo. I think me and lil’ homie can work somethin’ out.”

  “Handle yo’ B.I. We’ll just wait here until you say it’s all good,” Brooklyn replied.

  Click!

  Brah stayed out in the country, right outside of Goldsboro. It was a trailer that sat by itself, so Ty decided not to pull up to the spot. He parked in a little clearing down the road then guided a duct-taped Hardy back to the trailer.

  “Remember, nigguh, yo’ moms ain’t safe ‘til I say she safe, you understand? When we get to the door, I’ma knock, you talk. You alert this nigguh in any way, you’ll be pullin’ the trigger on your own mother,” Ty explained menacingly.

  Hardy walked in silence, like a man being escorted to the death chamber. He woke up every morning prepared to die, so there was no fear. His only thought was if he some how got away he would bring nothing but death to the whole Simmons family.

  As they walked up to the door, the sounds of a woman being fucked royally moaned through the air. The small trailer was almost rocking from the dick Brah was laying down. Ty smiled because he had caught the nigguh with his pants down literally.

  They stood on the short steps of the trailer and Ty knocked. The moans began to subside. He knocked again.

  “Who is it?” a gruff voice called out.

  Ty yanked Hardy’s collar.

  “Taveres.”

  “Who?!”

  “Taveres,” Hardy repeated louder through swollen lips.

  Ty could hear the sounds of heavy footsteps nearing the door.

  “Nigguh, fuck you doin’ out here this time of night?” Brah mumbled as he unlocked the door. He would’ve sent anybody else away, but Taveres was his favorite nephew because Hardy took care of Brah, and he was the young live-type street nigguh Brah had been.