“Hey. How’re you? Nobody’s been here to see him in days. Are you his brother, Darrick? He keeps asking for you,” the nurse said with a smile.
“Uh, yeah, I’m Darrick.” That was Dank’s real name.
“I’m Alexandria. Your brother’s awake, which is a blessing, considering how things started out for him. He has two broken ribs, a broken clavicle, and a shattered femur, and his spleen had to be repaired. He’s a fighter, though, so although he’s in a lot of pain, he’s still here.”
“Thank you for taking good care of him.”
She nodded. “That’s what I do. Now, I’ll leave you two alone for a while.”
When she walked out, Mike’s eyes suddenly opened. “Where’s Dank?” His voice was low, and it was like he was straining to talk.
With a sigh, I told him the truth, although I didn’t want to. “I don’t know, man.”
His voice rose. “What you mean, you don’t know?”
“He’s been missin’ for a few days. I thought the police was gon’ be in front of your door and shit. The only reason I even chanced comin’ was that I wanted to know if you was still …”
“Alive?” He chuckled. “I know you wanna kill me, cuz. Join the club. Mario was lyin’ like a mu’fucka, though. I just want you to know that.”
I nodded, and he continued.
“Now, as far as my brother, you gotta find out what’s goin’ on. It ain’t like Dank to just not show his face or not at least call and shit. No matter what you may think, li’l bro is a loyal-ass nigga. Don’t let what that nigga Mario told you fool you, man. He had his own agenda.”
“You got that, man, but who did this to you? Was it the BHM?”
He shook his head. “Nah, man. That bitch did it.” His voice was a mere whisper, and I could barely hear him.
“Huh? What bitch?”
“My baby mama. We got into it ’cause she thought I killed G, and she ran me over and shit. I’m goin’ kill that bitch and then get my shawty, yo.”
I was stunned. His baby mama had done that shit to him over that nigga? She must not know what he’d done to their daughter, or she just didn’t care.
“Are you fuckin’ serious, my nigga? Yo’ baby mama did that shit?”
“Hell yeah. I ain’t say shit ’bout it, ’cause I’m gon’ handle that shit myself. Now that I know something’s goin’ on wit’ my bro, it makes me wonder. Now, the BHM probably got something to do wit’ that. I tried to tell her about what G did to Kayla, but she ain’t believe me. Right before she hit the gas and ran my ass over, that ho told me that I was lyin’ on G and that those niggas suspected me. I’m sure they thought that goin’ after Dank was the next best thing after she’d already done that shit to me.”
Mike shook his head and cast his eyes down. “I’m sorry for gettin’ you into this, cuz. I know you don’t trust me, and you think there’s some truth to that bullshit Mario sold you. Believe me, man. There ain’t. I need you to find out what’s goin’ on wit’ Dank.”
I nodded as I grabbed my cousin’s hand. He held on the best he could, but his grip was weak. “I got you on that, fam,” I assured him.
He nodded and closed his eyes. I figured that was because of the pain medication that was dripping through his IV at timed intervals. For some reason, I thought they’d keep him protected in the hospital. What if those BHM niggas came up in there to finish what his baby mama had started? Without even a second thought about it, I left the hospital, on a mission.
*
“That bitch Kevia is still alive,” Daisha told me right after I walked through the door.
“How you know?” I asked, sitting down on the sofa beside her. Leaning over, I kissed her before she continued.
“I saw all the prayers and well wishes for her to get better on her Facebook page. That ho Quita’s dead, though. I saw ‘Rest in peace’ on hers. From what I read, Kevia’s still unconscious, but if she comes to, she’s gonna tell somebody that I shot her. Whether it be the cops or the BHM, I’m fucked.”
Baby girl was shaken up, and I held her in my arms, attempting to calm her down. “You don’t know how shit’s gon’ turn out, Ma. Okay?”
Daisha pulled away and shook her head as she stared over at me. “Let’s just leave. I don’t want this life anymore, Pistol. How can you? Ain’t you tired of looking over your shoulder, waiting for the cops to get you? Rae’s locked up, and nobody knows you killed G. Let’s just go!”
Tears fell from her eyes, and I was at a loss. I had no idea what to do to soothe her, but I couldn’t leave. “I can’t… . I wanna leave, but I can’t. I gotta make sure I find out where my cousin is. Then I gotta merk that nigga Rae. I got to.”
“Well, what am I gonna do? I don’t know about you, but I’m scared. What if the cops come after me? That could lead them to you too. Then what?”
“I seriously doubt that Kevia will tell the cops if she comes to.”
“But she’ll tell the BHM. I’m sure they still got her back, even although her brother’s gone. Shit, her boyfriend, Rock, is part of the BHM too. She’s covered. We’re not. I still don’t have any info on Diablo. We don’t stand a chance, Pistol. They got your cousins, and if they’re coming for you next … that means they may come for me too.”
“Nah, Mike’s baby mama who was fuckin’ G ran him over. The BHM didn’t do it. There’s a chance them niggas got Dank, though. I already told you I’ll protect you. Don’t worry.”
Daisha stood up and started nervously pacing the floor. She had been working at the salon/spa for a few days but still hadn’t had the nerve to ask Ozzy about Diablo. According to her, she just didn’t know how to bring it up, and I didn’t blame her. At that point, though, desperate times called for desperate measures.
“You gotta ask Ozzy about Diablo tomorrow, Ma. You were right. I can take on Rae, but I can’t take on the BHM by myself. I need some backup, and I need it fast.”
“But how am I supposed to … ?”
“Tell him the truth. Well, part of it, anyway. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? All you gotta do is tell him that my father knew him and I’ve been lookin’ for him. He don’t have to give you an address or nothing, just a number, and I’ll handle the rest.”
With a nod, she agreed. “Okay, bae. I’ll try.”
We sealed it with a sweet kiss.
Chapter 24
Pistol
The next morning I hit the streets early as hell to find out what I could about what had happened to Dank. I needed to know if he was alive and running from something or if the BHM had done something to him. First, I hit Wesley Chapel up to talk to the niggas who trapped with Mike and Dank. They didn’t know shit, of course, so my next stop was to holler at the corner dope boys. Those niggas had nothing for me, so I headed to Dank and Mike’s crib. Mike had given me his key to check on the spot.
Once I was parked at Mike and Dank’s, I turned the engine off, grabbed my strap, and headed to the door. I opened it, not even knowing what the fuck I was looking for, but I was hoping to find some evidence to lead me to where Dank was. Everything seemed normal as I took a look around. Nothing seemed out of place or anything.
I sighed as I stood there in deep thought. Where could I possibly look next? I was at a loss. My eyes drifted down to the floor, and I noticed a cell phone right there by the door. It was crazy, because there were no signs of a struggle. The door had been locked, but the cell phone lying there was out of place.
Picking the phone up, I wondered if it was Dank’s. I noticed that it was an iPhone, and Dank had a Galaxy Note. There was a pattern code to unlock it, and of course, I couldn’t figure it out. I had only six attempts before the phone would be set back to factory settings. I damn sure didn’t want that to happen, so I put it in my pocket. I’d figure out a way to crack it later.
As I put my hand on the doorknob to leave, I heard a noise. By the time I turned around, it was too late. I was hit on the head with something. The impact from that shit made me st
agger, but it wasn’t enough to knock me out. Blood dripped into my eyes, temporarily blinding me. With my shirt, I wiped it away. When I looked down at the floor, I noticed the broken shards of a lamp. My eyes moved up to see the culprit. That nigga was brown skinned, with long dreadlocks. He was about my height but a lot slimmer. I didn’t know who the hell he was, but something told me that he was affiliated with the BHM. Then I spotted the tattoo that let me know that I was right. As I got ready to pull my strap out, my eyes focused, and I noticed that he already had his pointed at me.
“Who the fuck you is, nigga?” he asked, chewing on a toothpick.
“Who I am don’t matter. Who the fuck you s’posed to be?” I spat, mad as hell that he’d pulled his strap out on me first.
“That don’t matter, either.” He glanced at a broken window on the side of the house.
So that was how he’d got in here. “Why the fuck you here?” I ice grilled that nigga as my mind came up with some way to reverse the situation.
It was clear that he was here looking for something too. I needed to know what. First of all, he didn’t even know who the fuck I was. Maybe I could convince him that I was here for the same reason as he was, although I had no idea what that was.
“I’m here for a good-ass reason, nigga. What you here for?” he said.
“Shit, I’m lookin’ for the niggas who live here. They owe me some money.”
“Hmm. Who you wit’, nigga?” He acted like he wanted to lower the gun, but he didn’t.
“I don’t claim no set. I’m a one-man army.”
That nigga nodded. “Damn. We need a nigga like you on our team. Those niggas who live here owe me their lives. I heard that nigga Mike’s fucked up in the hospital, but his bitch-ass brother, Dank, is bein’ taken care of.”
My heartbeat increased. He knew where Dank was.
“I heard about Mike, but I thought that nigga Dank was here. Fuck! I was gon’ pop that nigga, get my money, and get the fuck outta here. Damn.” I tried to throw him off. “I know where the safe is, but I don’t know the combination and shit. Maybe we can figure out how to open it together.”
“Together?” He tilted his head to the side like he was confused. “Who said I was gon’ share that shit wit’ you?”
“Uh, I just figured that since I know where that shit is and you don’t, I’d get a cut.”
He nodded and then smirked at me as he cocked the gun. “I ain’t got no reason to trust you, mu’fucka.”
“True, but if you lookin’ for money, you won’t find it without me.”
“Who said I was lookin’ for money, nigga?”
“You don’t have to be. Who don’t want free money? I mean, I’m willin’ to share wit’ you since you handled Dank for me. One less nigga for me to kill.”
“Real shit. He’s still alive, though … for now.” He nodded. “A’ight. Show me where this damn safe is, nigga.”
I was relieved to hear that.
With the gun, he gestured for me to lead the way.
“So why you wanna kill Dank and Mike?” I asked as we went. I needed to know if he was really with the BHM or if those niggas had beef with somebody else.
“They the reason the leader of the BHM is dead, and there are consequences for that shit.”
I tried to act surprised. “What the fuck? Them niggas gotta be crazy. I’d never go against the BHM.”
Without skipping a beat, I led the way down the stairs to the basement. All I wanted to do was get my hands on a gun. I walked straight to the spot and pulled out three floorboards. There the safe was, right where it had been the last time I was here.
“How’d you know where that shit would be?” Dude asked behind me.
“I watch shit when niggas don’t think I am,” I simply said.
Although I wanted to know where my cousin was, I had to go ahead and kill that nigga. If I didn’t, he was going to kill me. At least I knew that the BHM had Dank for a fact and that he was still alive.
“Uh, I need something sharp to pry this shit open with,” I said.
“Pry it open?”
He asked too many damn questions.
“Hell yeah. A screwdriver or something, nigga. I done this shit before. Have you?”
I looked up at him, and he shook his head.
“I’ll go see if I can find one. If you move, I’ll kill yo’ ass,” he said.
“Uh, we on the same team, man. Ain’t no need for all that,” I told him.
A few minutes later he returned with a screwdriver. How he’d found it that damn fast, I didn’t know.
He stood behind me, pointing that gun, as I pretended to try to open the safe. The thing was, I knew the combination. And I used the combination when he walked off to peek out the basement window. He must’ve heard something. The whole time he kept his strap aimed in my direction.
I wanted to whup that nigga’s ass, but I had to play it cool with a gun in my face. One thing about me was, I could think fast as hell. My plan was to use Dank and Mike’s strap hidden inside the safe. Although I had my gun on me, it was too damn risky to pull it out. I definitely didn’t want him to shoot at me. I wanted to be the only one doing the shooting. And killing that nigga seemed like the only way I would get out of there alive.
“I got it open … ,” I announced. Then I grabbed the Smith & Wesson inside the safe and turned toward that nigga and emptied the clip. The loud pops filled the silence.
I raced up the basement steps and out the front door. As I scrambled to get to my car, I looked around to make sure that there weren’t any witnesses to me leaving. The nosy old lady next door was peeking out her blinds. That let me know that she had heard the gunshots and was probably on the phone with the cops. Shit! I peeled out of there so fast, hoping my license plate was blurry. She’d seen me before a few times, so I was sure she could describe me. Damn!
As I reached in my pocket and grabbed my phone, my heart thumped erratically. Then I realized that the phone I’d pulled out of my pocket was the one that had been dropped on the floor of my cousins’ crib. I had no idea at that point if this phone belonged to Mike, Dank, the nigga I’d just killed, or whoever had my cousin. I retrieved my phone from my other pocket, then checked to see if Daisha had called. Getting in contact with Diablo was a must, especially if I wanted to save Dank. It was already after five, and she hadn’t called yet. Shit. She was about to get off work, and it was possible that she still hadn’t talked to the dude who owned the salon.
By the time I made it to the highway, I was able to exhale and relax a little. I was just pulling up to the crib when my phone rang. Looking down at the screen, I expected to see Daisha’s number. Instead, it was a Georgia number I didn’t recognize.
Something told me to answer my phone, although I didn’t usually answer calls from strange numbers.
“Hello?” It was more of a question than anything else.
“This Pistol?” It was a man’s voice that I didn’t recognize.
After an awkward pause, I asked, “Who wants to know?”
“Diablo,” he stated in a deep, powerful voice. “I remember your pops, Ty G. Your girl was tellin’ Ozzy ’bout him and what I told your moms after he … died. Ozzy called me, and now I’m callin’ you. I heard you got some shit goin’ on that you need help wit’. A promise is a promise. So, when can you come meet me?”
“Uh, some crazy-ass shit went down, but I can meet you in ’bout an hour.” I needed to clean up the blood from when dude had hit me in the head with the lamp.
*
Baby girl had come through for a nigga again. There I was, about to walk up in the Doll House, the strip club Diablo and his son Zy owned. During our phone conversation, Diablo had filled me in that his son was about my age. He’d also said they were both trying to leave the streets behind. But I felt that Diablo would make a comeback for me.
This guy who was head of security frisked me at the door, and I felt naked as hell without my strap. Especially after what had just gon
e down at Dank and Mike’s crib. Still, I had had to let that shit go and take my chances. I already knew they weren’t going to let me in with a weapon.
After I was cleared at the door, I was led through the club. My attention lingered on the stage. Some thick-ass bitch was working the pole. It was early as hell, and that joint was packed. Damn, I was impressed. Obviously, Diablo and his son knew what they were doing. Even the bartenders and waitresses were sexy as hell. This was so many steps up from the Blue Flame. I was led to the back of the club, where I figured the offices would be. A set of double doors was opened for me, and I was given the go-ahead to go inside.
When the doors closed behind me, I was face-to-face with the person I figured was the one and only Diablo Perez. His skin was the color of a bronze sculpture and was smooth, as if he was the same age as me. Of course, I knew that he wasn’t, since he had a son who was about my age.
With eyes the color of butterscotch, he stared at me like he’d just seen a ghost. As he stood up from the seat behind his desk, I closed the distance between us.
He shook my hand, then said, “Come sit down, Pistol.” He used his hand to gesture toward the chair on the other side of his desk.
After I took a seat, he sat back down at his desk. There was a cocky aura about him, and I figured that it had been earned. From what I’d heard about him, he wasn’t to be fucked with. That nigga had a line of bodies that could stretch way across the East Coast. Not only that, but he had eluded the cops for years and lived as a totally different person in Miami. How he’d avoided having those charges stick, I just didn’t know. I did know that I wanted to learn from the master. Not only did I need backup, but I also needed him to teach me how to be on the run without getting caught.
“Diablo, man, this …” I was at a loss for words. “This shit is crazy as fuck. My moms just told me about you, and then my girl ended up gettin’ that job and …”
“Here we are… .” He flashed a crooked smile. “I remember Maddie and Ty G. Ty wasn’t just a nigga I did business wit’. He was a loyal-ass mu’fucka for sho’.” With that said, he poured what looked like cognac into two shot glasses. “You look just like both of them.” He pushed one of the glasses toward me. “I heard you need my help wit’ something. What’s up, young buck?”
Love's Grip Page 20
