by King, Deja
“You know I do, big homie,” Block nodded. “But I got a lot of live wires. I need some shit done right and on the low. I know you an OG with this shit. I ‘member how you used to rock niggas to bed and they’d never find the bodies.” Murder Mitch laughed reminiscing on how he used to put in work for Block’s Uncle Bennie. He was a major kingpin in Newark and Murder Mitch was his number one hit-man. ‘ On one occasion, Bennie had hired Murder Mitch to wipe out an entire block for his nephew. It was then he gave his nephew the nickname “Block”. And being that he was running major blocks by the time he was fourteen made it stick. That was over a decade ago and Bennie had been ambushed leaving his home. This tragedy left Block next in line to take the head of the family heroin business.
“I’m feeling that. So when you need these niggas mind lost?” He was referring to him placing one in the dome. “And what’s the pay nigga? You know I don’t murder for chump change.”
Block chuckled. “I know how you rock, big homie. I’ma pay you good. But check, the reason I’m here is to invite you to my son’s party. It’s gon’ be huge and that is where we can continue to talk business.”
Murder Mitch laughed at the fact that he taught Bennie who had obviously taught Block to never just discuss business anywhere and the safest place is the place you lay your head. At times that wasn’t even safe, because it was easy for the Feds to bug anyone’s home. “I’m feeling you on that li’l nigga. I’ma be there to show my love and we can finish discussing our business there.”
“It’s on. But for old time sake we need to catch up, so let’s do lunch at one of my favorite joints, Uncle Mitch.”
“I don’t never turn down a good meal.” Mitch turned to his daughter “Semaj I’ma holla at you. I gotta handle something with my little man.”
“Okay, Daddy,” she yelled before he hopped into the coupe.
Hours later Quasim and Semaj was being chauffeured up to the massive cabin as the driver of the Escalade truck navigated his way up the spiraled hilltop. The wrought iron gate opened, admitting them in as the driver drove to the back entrance where the celebration was taking place.
Quasim’s driver opened the truck’s door for them, and quickly escorted Semaj to the backyard where he made his rounds with her on his arm. Everyone seemed to show her mad love except for the girl that wore the mean mug.
His uncle, Quentin was impressed by his lady of choice for the night and he had never seen Quasim bring any woman as his official date to one of their many functions. “You must be special, because my nephew never brings dates to our affairs. But I’ll admit you are truly breathtaking.” Quentin admired her beauty and stared longer than necessary. He had a feeling that he had seen her before. She looked too familiar but he dismissed it, assuming she resembled a woman he had known in the past.
There was a massive white rectangular shape table that seated ten people in the high-back, black-and-white chairs, which was positioned atop an onyx-glossed platform. Quasim took his place at the head, positioning Semaj directly beside him. The sun was setting graciously and the backyard’s automatic lights shone, emanating a pale yellow- hue to brighten up the yard. Waiters in black-and-white military uniforms came to serve them the gourmet cuisine.
“Do you always do things this big?” she asked as she leaned into
Quasim, curious as to what his response would be. “Why you ask that?”
“Because you coming all the way out to the mountains to celebrate and how you having your people catered to like this is normal or some shit.”
“This the only way to do it. I can’t take no armored trucks to the funeral homes. May as well live it up. This a day in the life. I told you this what you can get if you act right,” he laughed.
“Oh, is that right?” Semaj asked and hit him right back. “But you better hope you act right. Let’s not leave that out playa.”
Al-B stood with his champagne bottle in hand. “I’m toasting this one out to my man, Quasim. Mutherfuckas don’t wanna see us out here living and though they took out our people, he shining down on us and telling us to keep doing what we doing so we can make him proud. Here’s to you big bra, to us, to our fam, and to getting money, my nigga. They can’t stop the movement, and all the li’l hatin’ these hoe ass niggas doing is small thangs to a giant. We in here and taking it to the top.”
“No doubt, baby,” Mike-Mike added, slapping hands with his li’l brother, Slim. “Congratulations to you niggas on this project.”
“You already know, nigga,” Quasim said. Though he didn’t drink, he raised one of the many bottles in the air graciously. He figured he had to stay focus and always had to be on his toes. Matter of fact, he wasn’t drinking, smoking or nothing. He was strictly about his paper.
Everyone there was in his inner circle and as expected, he didn’t allow outsiders in and everyone not present was considered an outsider. Semaj could feel the honor, respect and loyalty amongst the crew. They were family and it seemed like everyone had the same level of respect for each other and she admired that about his crew. They were doing major shit and a part of her wondered what they all did to live such a life of luxury. He would’ve had to be in the film business a while to be moving how he moved, so she assumed Quasim dabbled into illegal things also.
As the evening proceeded, Semaj couldn’t stop smiling. She played her position as queen of the dynasty while enjoying the celebration. She felt special that Quasim was catering to her every need and showed her all of his attention. By midnight, the invitees were dispersing.
“Yo, Qua, this nigga keep calling my phone talkin’ bout you duckin’ his calls and shit,” Slim said.
“Who?”
“The Jerz, nigga. Talkin’ ‘bout he gotta rap some major business wit’ you.”
“I’ma grown ass man. What I look like dodging calls? Fuck, that nigga buggin’, B,” he said. “Yo, bay, I really need to take this call.” Quasim excused himself from the table.
She watched as Quasim rapped with the caller and after a few minutes he terminated the call seemingly angry. Walking to speak to his man’s briefly, he returned back to Semaj. He quickly dismissed the madness and welcomed her inside his opulent vacation home.
The place was the most amazing thing she’d laid eyes on. This wasn’t the average cabin. It was something ripped out of the magazines for the rich and famous. “This cabin is too beautiful,” Semaj said, admiring the tri-level brick entrance. The modern interior design was breathtaking. Saying it was plush would be an understatement.
“You like it?”
“What, boy I love it!” she exclaimed still in amazement of the whole idea of her being in this man’s company.
“I’m glad you do. I bought it last year.”
“What planet you come from? Mars? Because they don’t make niggas like you where I come from.” Semaj said as she walked by his side.
Quasim looked at her like she was crazy. “Mars? What is that supposed to mean?”
“It’s like you got everything in your life in order. You a young nigga and a black dude at that doing good for yourself. You don’t find dudes like this often and definitely not around my parts.”
“Maybe you need to find new parts then, because everybody I
know living life like this.”
Semaj giggled. She was waiting for Quasim to deliver the punch line but he didn’t. Dude was serious with his response. She knew undoubtedly that she was dealing with a major nigga. “So what are we going to get into tomorrow?” she asked, changing the subject.
“We’re going hiking and if you wanna go fishing we can do that too. I ain’t enjoyed no different shit in a minute.”
She smiled graciously. Dudes that she had dealt with in the past always thought the ordinary shit was the crème de la crème, but he was proving that he was extraordinary.
She followed him up to the master bedroom where they got comfortable. Semaj expected for Quasim to push up on her, but to her surprise, he didn’t even make a move. For that re
ason alone, she respected him even more and they sat up and pillow talked for hours—having a deep conversation about goals… dreams…the future. Semaj had felt that her life was changing right before her eyes. She had even forgotten briefly that she was a cold individual. She had never experienced anything like this before and she wondered could this have been what she’d been missing all along. That night she fell asleep in Quasim’s warm arms as he stroked her hair, and for once in her life she felt loved by a man.
The next morning the ringing of Semaj’s phone interrupted their sleep. They tried ignoring it, but it wouldn’t stop. It was irking the shit out of Quasim. “Yo, you need to answer that shit or turn it off.”
Leaning over to retrieve her cell from the nightstand, Semaj tried adjusting her vision to the light. Her intentions were to turn the phone off until she saw Tala’s picture pop up on her screen. “Is this you really blowing me up like this,” Semaj asked groggily.
“Oh shit, I still see you got that smart ass mouth. Shit ain’t changed after two years, huh?”
“Who is this?” Semaj frowned as she sat upright to try and recognize the voice.
“D-Boy. I hope you got my fifty Gs since you helped this bitch spend my hard earned money.”
“Wh… what you talkin’ about? Some niggas ran in Tala’s spot and took your money D-Boy,” Semaj said, standing up as fear entered her heart. “Where is my Auntie?”
“Dumb bitch lying out on this couch high as a fuckin’ kite. I’m about to beat this bitch up until she tell me where my money at. What, you bitches done snorted up all my money?” he asked.
“What are you talking about, D-Boy?” she asked, hopelessly.
“I know y’all bitches try’na swindle me out of my mu’fuckin’ bread. Real cute and brilliant notion. Bet you betta come up wit’ that cheese ‘cause a nigga a do whatever to you bitches for my fuckin’ cheddar, hoe.” With those words he hung up in her ear.
Shock and disbelief formed in her eyes and Quasim didn’t know what was going on. “What’s wrong? What happened? Are you okay?”
“No. That was my Aunt’s baby’s father. I need to go.” “Now?” he asked.
“No… right now!”
Chapter 7
Semaj hated that she had to end their trip, but hearing from D-Boy had her on edge. All she could do was replay his threat in her mind. Bet you betta come up wit’ that cheese ‘cause a nigga a do whatever to you bitches for my fuckin’ cheddar, hoe. Semaj shook her head in disappointment. He think she took his money to get high, she thought regretfully. I should have never encouraged her to take that man’s bread. No matter how hard she tried to ignore her nagging gut, the bad feeling in her stomach let her know something was wrong. She stared blankly out of the window in order to avoid Quasim seeing the fear in her face.
The whole ride Quasim didn’t say a word, respecting that she obviously didn’t want to speak on the situation. Out of care, he did often caress the back of her neck in comfort to let her know that she could talk to him about anything.
The ride seemed to take an eternity and Semaj wanted to roar at the driver. It seemed as if he was outside of the car pushing it himself. He was driving extremely too slow and she desperately needed to get to her auntie. Her mind was so gone she hadn’t once thought to phone her father. All she wanted at this moment more than anything in the world was to get back to the city. Father Lord, please don’t let D-Boy have harm my auntie. Oh God, let her make it through this and I will get her help, she promised silently. How did she get to this point? Please keep her safe, Father.
Semaj had never experienced anything close to God, but she desperately needed the higher power to watch over her auntie’s welfare. Semaj knew that the reason it was hurting her so badly was because she hadn’t reached out to help her. She assumed that she would eventually shake her drug habit. In the beginning, Semaj battled with Tala over the drugs she was abusing, but soon gave up on her. Her heart was filled with a twinge of guilt for giving up on her auntie so easily. But I never knew it was that bad. She knocked out on the couch and don’t even know he’s there, Semaj thought in disbelief. All this is my fault. Why did I tell her to go into that nigga’s stash? Why didn’t I tell her that the lifestyle we all are leading isn’t the way it’s supposed to be? All I had to do was help her.
When they pulled on her father’s block, Semaj quickly gathered her belongings and waited for the truck to come to a halt.
“Baby, whatever there is that I can do for you, I’m only a phone call away,” Quasim said sincerely.
She nodded her head and tried to give him a comforting smile but to no prevail. “Thank you, but at this time there’s nothing you can do. But I’ll call you at a later time.” Semaj opened the door and stepped down from the truck. Noticing her father’s car was gone, she called his phone and left him an urgent voicemail while sliding in her car and driving away.
When she arrived at Tala’s apartment, she threw her car in park. She hopped out of the vehicle and rushed into the high-rise building. Her heart pumped out of her chest. She immediately knew something was wrong. The door was ajar. As soon as she stepped inside a horrible smell filled her nose and through the corner of her eyes Semaj saw her auntie laid out on the sofa. Blood was soaking through the throw pillow and dripping onto the tan carpet, leaving maroon specks. She had blood leaking from her head. Semaj ran over and knelt down beside her as she broke down crying.
“Auntie! Tala, wake up man! Wake up! Stop playing!” Semaj screamed as she cradled her face with her hands. She grabbed the thin sheet and tried pressing against the bullet hole in her head, but the sheet was nothing compared to the blood flowing profusely. “Tala you can’t die on me! We don’t die! We bad bitches!”
Tala started to cough and gag up blood as more blood poured from her mouth. “Don’t let me die like this,” Semaj heard her faint whisper and realized that she was alive.
“I’m here, Ta. Don’t think about that right now. You gonna make it through,” she said in a panic as she frantically pulled out her phone, her shaky hand barely able to dial 911. “Please, I need help. My auntie has been shot in the head,” she muttered urgently. She gave the operator their location and dropped the phone as she concentrated on her auntie, and attempted to hold her.
“My baby boy, Maj. Please make sure Ms. Long takes him because she’s all I trust.”
“Stop talkin’…Tala save your breath ma. I’ma make sure, but don’t talk. The ambulance is on the way.”
“I’m sorry for not listening to you. You always been my favorite person in the world. I love you. If I could do it all over again, I would’ve raised you better. I would’ve done better for the both of us.”
“I love you too. But you raised me to the best of your ability. I’ll always be grateful. Just hold on a few minutes longer. You have to be strong for us Tala. We been through it all. You can hold on I know it, Ta.” She could hear the paramedics from a distance as she rubbed her hair softly. “Just hold on Ta,” she cried. Semaj had tears streaming down her face, partially obstructing her vision.
“Please… don’t be mad, Maj,” her words were barely audible. “But the pain…” Tala whispered before her eyes shut against her will.
Mobb Deep was pumping out of the speakers as Murder Mitch cruised the interstate pushing 85 mph in the CLK rental, blowing purple haze. In all his years, he never owned a car. It wasn’t because he couldn’t afford one. But in his profession he believed that it was mandatory to switch up whips like he switched firearms so that nobody would recognize him when he rode down. He liked being incognito. He took an extensive toke from the blunt and briefly held the smoke in his lungs.
Since he had been home from prison he hadn’t been in the murder-for-hire business. Actually, he assumed he’d been forgotten about regarding that line of work. He’d been robbing niggas for so long that his most skilled trade being a hired gun had been placed on the back burner. With the proposition Block had offered him had been a long time coming. He was r
eady to put his murder game back on.
“This li’l nigga try’na keep the legacy going,” Murder Mitch laughed. He pulled off the expressway and entered a small city in the suburban section of New Jersey. After a few turns onto a couple back streets he arrived at Block’s residence. Murder Mitch looked down at the paper the address was on and smiled. I see the nigga doing well for himself, making his peeps proud of continuing what they built. He observed the elegant mansion and the tall, black wrought iron-gate that kept the onlookers at bay leading to the entryway. He gave his name to the security guard occupying the booth before entry.
After a brief moment of silence, then the sound of the metal clanking, Murder Mitch was admitted inside the private property. He maneuvered his automobile through the gate and followed the signs that led to the back of the French-style mansion. The scenery was amazing and Murder Mitch promised he hadn’t seen a place so beautiful since working for Kasey’s father. The lawn appeared to be freshly mowed and the flowers that lined the front complemented its entry. The driveway was filled with exotic vehicles and Block’s henchman took their positions around the borders.
Murder Mitch slid out of the car where an obvious pool party was taking place. It was obvious that it was a children’s shindig and the parents watched their activities attentively. Block was laid out in a beach chair by the bar, accompanied by his wife, Kandi. The soldiers kept their eyes glued on Murder Mitch as he approached their boss.
“My man Million Dollar! What’s good?”
“You know what I’m ready for. This business, son.”
“Always been a businessman.” Block chuckled and stood to slip into his linen shirt. “Let’s go inside the pool house,” he suggested, signaling for his wife to prepare him a drink.
“That’s a beautiful wife you have there, little homie,” Murder Mitch commented as he admired her shapely body and flawless dark skin as her hips swayed from side to side.
