by King, Deja
Kandi looked through the rearview mirror and noticed it was Murder Mitch with a crazed look etched across his face. She shook her head and though not surprised, she couldn’t believe this nigga was bold enough to get at her bare face. She tried informing Block about trusting niggas, especially them grimy New York niggas. They didn’t have no loyalty or respect for the game.
Kandi went to reach for her handbag when Murder Mitch said, “Don’t try no slick shit, either.” He pressed the gun to her temple. “Tell the nigga to meet you here and come alone. You need to speak with him on something concerning the feds.”
Kandi knew that she was about to die. But she knew that she’d have one up on Murder Mitch in death as she dialed her husband’s number.
“What up, Kan?” Block answered. “Your man Murder Mitch killed me.”
She was so calm, and it shocked the hell out of Mitch. He wasn’t expecting her to chance her life over Block’s. He figured she’d call him in hopes of him saving her, and thought her bad girl image would die once reality kicked in. But what he didn’t know was Kandi wasn’t green to the streets. She knew precisely how grimy niggas played, and being married to a hustler could end her precious life at any moment.
And yes, if losing her life in the process knowing that Block wouldn’t sleep until he found Murder Mitch, then she was willing to deal with death. She was a true soldier, and the Bonnie to his Clyde. Their love was only fathomable to real streets niggas and real street bitches. She was riding for hers and knew that Block would ride for her.
“Pssst!”
The gunshot through the silencer made it virtually inaudible as the bullet erupted in Kandi’s skull. Blood spilled from the side of her head as her body slumped over on the window. Murder Mitch quickly went for the latch as he heard yelling coming from the phone.
Opening the door, he stepped one foot onto the pavement. He was so pissed that he had swiftly glanced back at the fresh corpse and aimed the gun at her head. He emptied the entire clip on her, leaving her head and upper body filled with several holes. He jogged to his car and then pulled away, disappearing into the black night.
The thing about a ‘hood killing, most of the time family, friends and nosy motherfuckers arrive on the crime scene before the police. Street gossip spread like wildfire.
Block was on the opposite side of town when he received the surreal phone call. His phone had been chiming relentlessly since he had gotten the unexpected call from his wife. Hoping that this was some kind of prank, he rode shotgun as his driver flew him to the west side of town. He arrived at the hair salon in record-breaking time. The car barely came to a halt and Block hopped down from the truck. He rushed to his wife’s Lexus.
“Block, man I don’t think you should go over there,” one of his young soldiers warned.
“Fuck you mean? Move, nigga!” He forcefully pushed the young thug and headed for the car. Opening the car door, reality kicked it and the horrified sight devastated Block. “God no…no Kan…why her!” Tears filled his eyes as he kneeled down and held Kandi in his shuddering arms. Shortly after, her parents arrived and her mother’s hysterics were something straight out of a street movie.
By this time police officers, homicide detectives and an ambulance had showed up. The officers had directed everyone to move outside of the crime scene yellow tape. That sent Kandi’s mother over the top. “Nooooo! This is my baby! She can’t die!” She ran around the tape and tried to pull her daughter from the car. “Wake up, Kandi! Baby, get up!”
The officer could understand the reaction of the mother. She had seen it many times, but she had to do her job. “I’m sorry ma’am, but I will be forced to have someone remove you from here. This is a crime scene. I just need you to move behind the tape,” the female officer ordered as the mother cried uncontrollably in her husband’s arms. There was nothing in the world worse than losing a child.
Block paced back and forth on the sidewalk, and replayed Kandi’s last words: You’re man Murder Mitch killed me. He didn’t understand it as a pounding migraine plagued his brain. A million thoughts boggled his mind as the detective walked up. “Sorry, Mr. Stevens for your loss. I will do everything in my power to solve this case. I just need your help and the names of anybody that could be a potential suspect.”
Block ignored the detective’s statement and walked off furiously. He was never willing to speak with the pigs. He hated them with every fiber in his body, and hated everything they stood for. Just like any street nigga, he was bred with the “fuck the police” mentality. He knew they couldn’t bring no justice in his situation better than he would— that meant street justice—that meant an ugly death—stream of deaths. This was the beginning of a war.
Semaj sat beside Quasim on the sofa sectional as they watched breaking news. Mike-Mike sat across from them.
“Homicide detectives are on the scene of the latest murder in Newark. Authorities are saying this might be a hit for the husband of the victim that has been under federal investigation for the past nineteen months. We’ll have more details coming up on the eleven o’ clock news. Now back to your regular programming.”
“Well damn! Did the nigga get at Block or what?”
“That’s the shit I’m trying to figure the fuck out.” Quasim replied and picked up his phone.
Semaj looked at Quasim and felt bad for the woman that had lost her life. She was used to people dying but she felt guilty that her father had to switch teams. Semaj hated that she had broken the deep line of loyalty that her father had with the Stevens’. Fuck it! It was either him or me and my father chose family. ‘Nough said.
“Hello?”
“Did you get the job done?” Quasim asked.
“I’m about to walk inside the house right now.” Murder Mitch hung up the phone and after five minutes, he entered the home. “Man you ain’t gon’ believe this shit.” He immediately told them what had gone down.
“Damn, Block had him an ol’ gutta bitch, huh?” Mike-Mike asserted.
“Now it’s gon’ be hard for me to get at that nigga.” Murder
Mitch shook his head in disappointment.
“Fuck that nigga! I mean niggas wanna beef. When we get done wit’ these muthafuckers, they’ll regret they ever got this shit poppin’,” Mike-Mike said, letting him know nobody was inaccessible. “Nigga ain’t no mu’fuckin’ Carlo Gambino! Might act like it, but nigga’s camp ain’t that untouchable.”
“I know that, B,” Murder Mitch stated seriously. “Any nigga can be touched. I’m just saying he gon’ be extra careful now.”
“The murder of his wife is enough to show that nigga that shit’s real out here. I’m not playing with niggas no more.” Quasim said calmly. He knew that Block had to be terminated and the sooner the better. But as of now he’d have to wait and stay two steps ahead of him, because it would be damn near impossible to touch him anytime soon. Quasim was a man that never cried over spilled milk, so all he could do was wait it out. “Just let shit die down and get at the nigga when he least expects it. But for you Mitch, you gotta lay low for now. I know that nigga got blood in his eyes for you.”
“Niggas bleed just like the next man, fam. Nigga run up try’na clap, best believe I’m taking a couple mu’fuckas with me,” he said coldly.
“Daddy, stop talkin’ like that!” Semaj demanded. “That’s the only way I live. You know that Maj.”
“Yeah, I know,” she replied not hiding her anger and went upstairs to take a shower.
Chapter 11
It was one of those days that started out fast and time was the last thing on your side. Several weeks had passed and finally the day for Tala to be released from the recovery center had arrived. Excited that Tala was better, Semaj decided to have a dinner party to celebrate. She had already been running errands all morning trying her best to get things in order.
She’d shopped for Tala some new clothes, but wasn’t even halfway through her list of things to do. Her itinerary was full and Semaj still needed to
get her hair and makeup done by the Dominicans and her brows Indian threaded. Least they all in the same vicinity, she thought, trying to find ways to save time.
When Semaj got home the first thing she did was unload the many bags in her auntie’s new room. Quasim had agreed to let her stay with them once Semaj expressed her reasons. She wanted Tala close to her. Semaj felt she could finally return the favor for all her aunt sacrificed to raise her after her mother died and her father went to prison.
“S… Semaj…” Paris summoned from downstairs. “Would you come the hell on with the outfit you want Ta to put on? You gon’ make me late picking her up.”
“Come up here for a minute, P,” Semaj countered as she went into her bedroom to slip on a jogging suit to be more comfortable.
“What’s this?” Paris asked, entering the room and walked to look at the things on the bed.
Emerging from her walk-in closet, Semaj finally noticed the gorgeous items that were on the bed along with a shimmering silver and black envelope. She opened it and the card read:
I’m proud of you. Through all the bullshit you always remain strong and for that you exceed the respect level I have for any woman. This is a little something I put together for you to wear to dinner tonight.
The items that lay on her bed consisted of a multi-hued beautiful short silk dress with draping long sleeves. It was pearl with teal, fuchsia, dark purple, royal blue, bright green and golden yellow splotches that flowed effortlessly together. Atop the dress was a turquoise box containing a pair of fuchsia diamond earrings and a watch with a pearl face incrusted with diamonds. The pearl and fuchsia open-toe Giuseppe stilettos Quasim picked out was the perfect finishing touch.
“Now Quasim know you don’t dress like that. Please!” “You don’t like it?”
“There’s no denying the shit is hot, but you know you ain’t never dressed like that before. Nigga try’na turn you into something that you not.”
“I mean…I guess you right” Semaj’s insecurities exuded and she knew she’d look dumb in the classy, yet sexy dress. But since Quasim went out of his way to think about her, she figured she didn’t have a choice. Instantly, she dismissed the self-doubting and knew she would wear the dress. “Anyways, I wanted to speak to you about something before Tala came home.”
“What is it?”
“I know Ta is a grown ass woman, and though she told me that she is finished with the drugs, I’m asking you to not do drugs around her.”
“I feel what you saying Maj, but umm…Tala is grown and she gon’ do what she wanna do regardless.”
“You right.” Semaj grabbed her bag from off the bed and draped it over her shoulder. “But I’m just saying don’t influence her, and don’t do nothing in front of her. You know how she can easily fall victim to temptation.”
“Why would you think I’d try to manipulate her into doing drugs? You act like I’m just this big blow head. I just do that shit when shit heavy on my mind. And, I ain’t never put a gun up to her head to start fuckin’ with coke. She wanted it herself. And I sure in the hell didn’t get her into shooting up. I don’t even fuck with that shit, so you can’t blame me, Maj.”
“I’m not blaming you, Paris,” she huffed as they exited her room and descended down the left set of stairs. “I’m just saying you know Tala’s need for drugs can easily be triggered by the littlest thing. We don’t need that for her. She don’t need it for herself,” Semaj said, trying to protect her auntie’s well being.
“I feel you. I’ma make sure she don’t go back down that road,” Paris replied sincerely as she followed Semaj out of the house.
“A’ight fam. Thanks for picking her up for me too. My day is already hectic,” she sighed, unlocking her door by the keychain. “I’ll see y’all when you get to the salon.”
“It’s on.” Paris climbed inside the rental car and pulled away.
Semaj was sitting underneath the hair dryer flipping through a popular fashion magazine at her favorite Dominican spot Lulu’s when Tala and Paris walked in. She smiled widely as she watched her auntie strutting through on her own twos, looking beautiful. Her dark skin looked as if it had been kissed by the sun and she had a healthy glow to her.
“Auntie! You look good!” Semaj gushed excitedly.
“You too, Ms. Thang!” Tala kissed each of her cheeks. “Now what’s up? You know I gotta get it back jumpin’. This ponytail shit gots to go. I’m seriously in need for a doobie so I can feel like a true diva.”
“Only how we can,” Paris added as the stylist immediately called them to the shampoo bowl. Before they knew it, the trio were all underneath the dryer with a head full of large purple rollers, conversing and joking like old times. It felt good for them to all be inside the same room outside of the walls of confinement that Tala had been in.
“Well, I still got a million errands to run, but least I got the big shit out the way,” Semaj said, finishing up first.
“We’ll catch up with you at the dinner party. Love you Maj.” “Love you too. See you guys later on tonight,” Semaj waved and blew her aunt a kiss before leaving.
Climbing down from the Range Rover, Quasim handed the valet Semaj’s truck keys and the duo walked inside the venue. Everyone had arrived before the couple had, and were already seated at the table. The place was exquisite and the décor was something snatched off of a sexy South Beach scene. The bright colored lighting and modern furnishings set it off.
Taking her seat, Quasim sat beside Semaj and before they knew it the entire table was being served. They drank champagne and ate good as they laughed and talked. Semaj loved being surrounded by the closest people to her and looked forward to the next chapter of her life. Clanking the glass with her dinner spoon, She stood with her champagne raised in the air, preparing to show her appreciation.
“First, I would like to make a toast to my auntie. If I never told you before, I’m telling you now. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, and the many sacrifices you made to ensure I had decent clothes on my back and good meals in my stomach. We been though it all, but now it’s like the game allowed us to throw in our bad hand and gave us another chance with a totally different hand, a winning hand. Again Tee Tee,” Semaj smiled, excitedly. “I love you, ma, and thanks for everything. Know if I’m rich, you’re rich too. No questions.” She had to hurry up and move from that speech because her eyes were beginning to water.
“And I have to thank my lovely father. You know we been through it all, but managed to get through all the bullshit.” She winked. “I’ll always be grateful. You the realest nigga I know, and will always be.” She blew him a kiss.
“Now, lastly,” Semaj turned to Quasim who stood up and took her hand in his. “Baby, you don’t know how much joy you bring me. I haven’t been complete since before I could remember, but with you, I’m like completely complete, if that makes sense,” Semaj laughed optimistically. “Seriously though, with you, I feel like a different woman. I can’t thank you enough for the way you shifted my direction in life. I love you, boo.”
Oohs and awws erupted followed by everyone applauding and yelling.
The parking attendant emerged and approached their table. “Sir, sorry to interrupt your dinner but a tow truck is outside towing your vehicle away.”
“What!” Semaj shouted. She headed for the door as everyone followed with smirks and sly grins. She was pissed as the tow driver loaded her truck onto the back. “Why are you towing my car?” she asked as she raced towards the tow truck.
“I’m just doing my job, ma’am.”
“Qua,” she turned around to a grinning Quasim. “You need to see why he towing my truck. And what’s so funny?” She looked around at everyone who had smirks etched on their faces. He nodded towards the car approaching them. Turning to see what he was looking at, she spun around.
The valet was driving a pearl white Mercedes-Benz E 63 AMG wrapped in a red ribbon. The car stopped right in front of her and the driver climbed out and left the d
river side door ajar. “Nice car and the gadgets are out of this world,” the valet smiled.
“This you, ma. My girl ain’t gotta lease shit. We owners on this end,” he whispered in her ear charmingly.
She jumped up and down in excitement like a kid on Christmas, and hopped right inside. Semaj explored the top-of-the-line features in her brand new car. But with all the newness that surrounded her for some reason it made her reflect to the past. Semaj couldn’t help to think about the secrets she had concealed that enabled her to get into a car like this. Now times had changed and she was a different person. However, the deceit she kept buried was tearing her apart. But she was different now and after tonight there was no way she was carrying that heavy burden around any longer. She had the man that would bring her joy and happiness. Sometimes the past was best to stay exactly where it was—in the past. This the way it’s supposed to be. Finally I have a life to be proud of, she thought pleasantly as she jumped out to hug Quasim tightly. The attendant moved her car back to valet parking so they could enjoy the rest of their evening.
“You must like it,” he commented with a cute grin.
“Nigga! Like? Like? I love it!” she screamed, hugging Quasim again.
“This is a day in the life when you fuckin’ with a boss. ‘Member
I told you that,” he joked, and kissed her on the top of her forehead.
The handful of guests applauded cheerfully as the couple was a picture of happiness.
But some happiness is only for the moment because in a matter of seconds love, joy, and excitement deserted the atmosphere. Death took its place as two black vans crept up and the ringing of different machine guns signified that. Everyone ducked for cover and Quasim’s henchman shielded the duo as his goons fired back. They chased the vans down the street with automatic handguns.
“Oh my God!” Semaj muttered after the shooting had ceased. “You okay?” Quasim asked, freeing his body from shielding hers.
