by King, Deja
“I feel you. Though that’s not the case, Gio. I’m just done with taking chances at life. No more for me. I’m gone from this game. After this last shipment my hands will be clean of drugs. I will no longer be referred to as a kingpin or the dopeman. The game was good to me, but I know what I gotta do. I’m going into the New Year a brand new man. I’m cutting all ties to the streets,” he said and looked at his men, taking his time before speaking. He knew with niggas like his he had to be meticulous so each word was clear and understandable. “I know you both are capable of running the business. You niggas was the face of my empire, and I know it was with your loyalty and the fear that y’all instilled in the streets that kept the organization moving smoothly. It’s y’all turn now though. But one thing I wanna say is treat it good and with respect, and it’ll return the love. Don’t overplay your position and don’t treat the block boys like shit and they’ll prove loyalty to you.” “Mike-Mike, I know you’s a coldhearted nigga, son. You don’t
give a fuck about murking a nigga. Your murder game is flawless and that’s one of the things I liked about you since we was li’l niggas, fam. But now y’all are in the lead. Y’all niggas gotta hustle with shrewdness. It’s the key to this life, family. And a man in this game must be careful and strategic ‘cause we don’t want the heat finding the big man.” Quasim paused, referring to Gio. “With him, it’s only one rule to follow. You take your own heat. You don’t rat! It’s simple. It’s basic rules to this shit, real shit, B.”
The hungry look in the two men’s eyes was confirmation that they were ready to take the city on and enthusiasm was etched to their faces. Needless to say, Quasim couldn’t see himself handing the game down to anyone else.
“Is there anything you would like to add, Poppa?” he asked with confidence.
Gio nodded and raised his glass, indicating that Quasim led the meeting well. “What about y’all?”
“I’m just ready fam,” Slim nodded, genuinely appreciative. He had given them the knowledge they had needed and the keys to an empire that only few would ever obtain.
“This is to the made life, my bruthas!” Quasim raised his glass as the two followed suit and held their glasses up for the toast. This was turning into a night of celebration for his retirement and Quasim was optimistic about beginning the next chapter of his life.
Quasim stood near the railing on the bi-level floor overlooking the dense crowd. Semaj stood in front of him as she sipped on a glass of wine and slightly bobbed her head to Yo Gotti’s live performance. He was her favorite rapper and it was truly a surprise to have him perform for her birthday party. The entire ‘hood had been invited to the white affair. Quasim had rented an elite club for the night and she couldn’t have been more appreciative.
Semaj remained silent as she took in the excitement the party- goers were engaging in. She couldn’t have been more elated with her life. Getting so much love from the streets had her feeling like she was accomplishing things. Semaj thought about how much Quasim had changed her life for the better. She went from ‘hood royalty to queen of the galaxy, and it was all because of the wonderful man she had in her corner. They had the VIP section on lock and all his people were popping bottles and having a good time.
Glancing at his timepiece, Quasim noticed it was thirty minutes until the clock struck twelve. Once it hit, he was scheduled to kneel down on one knee and pop that million-dollar question. As the time approached near, a funny feeling passed over him. Something in the air just didn’t feel right, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. His dopeman’s sixth sense was moving him as he surveyed out at the crowd for anything suspicious.
“Bra, you a’ight?” Mike-Mike walked up and asked his man. He could sense when something was bothering him. “You looking wary, my man.”
“Yeah, I’m good.” Quasim nodded and shook the feeling off. “You sure man?”
“Yeah, nigga. Let’s make that shit happen,” Quasim said turning to Semaj. “Ay, Maj, go down to the bar and get Chi for me so she can be up here before the countdown.”
She paused for a minute, suspicious. She knew something was up because Quasim already knew she didn’t rock with the chick like that. Not knowing what it was, Semaj searched his eyes for an explanation but came up empty handed.
“C’mon baby. I don’t want shorty to miss our celebration. Don’t be like that,” he said with pleading eyes.
“A’ight. But only ‘cause you asked me.” Semaj slightly scrunched up her face.
“Thanks,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her waist and leaned down to kiss her lips. She grinned and took off with an enticing sway at the hips.
“The world is yours, man. And everything in it,” Quasim said after Semaj left out of the room and threw his arm around Mike-Mike’s neck. His man returned the gesture brotherly style. “I know you got this shit, homie. I want y’all to have everything I had in this game and more. Live larger than fucking life, fam.”
“We got this shit. Fo’real, on some real shit, my nigga I love you, man. Even before this dope game shit, we loved you. I’d die for you nigga and that’s word to my mutha.”
Quasim knew he was sincere and though the thug intimacy conversation was rare, Quasim was sure he’d lie down and die for him without question. “I love you too, nigga. You my brother.”
As if on cue the rap artist exited the stage and the DJ allowed Li’l Boosie’s “My Brothers Keeper” to blare. Slim walked up to join his people as the trio slightly rocked to the beat with a bob of the head and chanted along. “I ride for you nigga… I die for you nigga…and if I get caught I do the time for you nigga…” The threesome lightly prodded each other and continued to move their heads up and down indicating that they were niggas through life and even death.
“This bitch is packed than a mu’fucka,” Slim stated amped as he looked out into the scenery of the nightclub. “Damn, man! Y’all seen them fine bitches in the white trench jackets?” he asked, referring to the beautiful tannish colored Dominican stallions that he saw as if they were stationed to their own areas.
“I was peeping them tall, pretty bitches too. It’s like four…five of them hoes.”
“I’ma have to teach y’all one of my many cautionary acts too.” Quasim smiled slyly as they watched on as the thick energy was up and the partygoers vibed to the hip-hop tunes.
From a distance, perched up on the barstool with a glass of cognac, Paris watched as the established couple mingled together, and she waited for the perfect moment to destroy their happiness. It made her insides burn fumingly that Semaj was shining in all of the glory on both ends of the stick. But Paris knew this day would arrive where chaos would run its course. Like when a person’s hand itched when money was imminent, hers itched knowing she was impending Semaj’s demise. And that itch was about to get scratched. She grinned pleasingly once she noticed Semaj leaving his side. “That’s all I was waiting on, scandalous bitch!” She quickly sat her drink on the table. “Was for you to move for just a sec. Once you return your lovely life will be over.” An evil leer crossed her face as she relished in this moment and made her way up to the VIP.
Chapter 18
Taking a glimpse at the time, Semaj realized that it was only fifteen minutes left before her and her love’s new day would begin dawning. She was overly excited about his decision to leave the street life behind and build an equal standard of living without life of drugs and crime. After finally grabbing Chi from the bar they headed back upstairs making casual conversation, concealing their dislikes toward one another.
The goon that guarded the door stared at Semaj for what seemed like minutes and then eventually stepped aside, ushering them inside by a sway of the hand. Paris had just delivered a devastating blow to Quasim that had his world crashing down on direct encounter.
Semaj noticed when stepping into the VIP room it seemed to have adopted an atmosphere that definitely wasn’t the friendly vibe it held right before she exited. Balloons were scattered across the skyli
ght ceiling, and a tall five-tier cake was centered with an artificial piece, which was a replica of her and Quasim atop the amazing cake, but the beautiful surroundings weren’t giving off celebratory energy.
Searching the tension filled room for Quasim, Semaj noticed him standing with his back toward her, seemingly overlooking the club with both hands firmly clenched to the rails. As she made her way over to him, his goons, including the ones she knew very well ice-grilled her, and she couldn’t understand the cold stares. Fuck is they looking at me like that for? What kinda game is Qua playing, she thought growing annoyed.
Walking up behind him, Semaj wrapped her small arms comfortably around his chiseled abs as a sense of security overcame her. In her zone of solace, she laid her head against his back. She felt his body tense up. “Baby, why everybody looking all weird and shit?” she asked, continuing to rub his abdomen. “They ice-grilling me. And why you all tensed up,” Semaj whispered as the soft R&B melody that the DJ played soothed her mind. “You can relax now, baby. This is it. No more stressful, sleepless nights. We good and all we gon’ do is sit back and enjoy this life and the days of bad are gone,” she said assuredly.
With a smile spread across her face and her eyes shut, her mind was peaceful. Semaj would have never guessed in a million years that her life was once again in shambles. That was until Quasim tightly gripped onto her two wrists, throwing them from around him forcefully. He turned around with an expression etched to his face that scared the shit out of her. Semaj flinched just at the sight of him. She had never experienced him looking at her that way…ever. “Baby, is everything okay?” she asked, her eyes bugged wide in fear.
In a daze, he glanced down at the table that sat beside him, and in a swift motion he snatched the champagne flute glass up and broke it across her face.
“Oh, my, Gooooodddd!” she screamed as she staggered back- wards. Instinctively she brought her hands to her face. Blood seeped through the slits and onto her white dress.
Before she stumbled to fall, Quasim snatched her up and went into his waistband for his 9mm as his loyal crew followed suit, aiming straight for her head with no remorse. “Bitch! You’s a grimy ass conniving trife hoe!” He yanked her up by a handful of her hair and once again sent her flying to the carpeted floor, causing her carpet burns on contact. He slapped her across the face with his gun and instantly the skin on the other cheek burst opened and blood oozed out. “Bitch, here I’m thinking you this classy ass broad with morals and you as sheisty as the rest of these crab ass bitches!” he spewed, fuming.
“What are you talkin’ about, Qua?” she asked in tears as she tried bearing the excruciating pain in her face.
“So you wanna sit here and act and shit! Bitch, this ain’t the movie set and that shit ain’t riding with me!” he yelled harshly and pulled her back onto her feet and slammed her body repeatedly against the floor as if she were a rag doll. It was like Quasim was a brother that had zoned out completely.
He was so infuriated that he couldn’t bring himself to cry, though he felt empty from her betrayal. Pausing, he looked down at his clothes. His white threads were splattered with splotching bloodstains. He looked in her eyes full of bewilderment. They were encompassed with love and confusion despite the fact she was sprawled on the floor cringed in discomfort as she forced herself to scramble backwards in fright.
Quasim looked at her birthday/engagement cake, making him even more irate that he’d taken her in with trust and loved her more than he’d loved himself. She was the only woman he’d ever loved. She was supposed to be his wife, but how could he trust her? She represented everything he detested in a woman. He could never forgive her for being involved with the murder of his father. His dad. His leader.
When Paris first delivered the devastating news, he pulled out his burner on her, screamed she was a lying whore for trying to assassinate his woman’s character. He cared about Semaj that much that he would have never believed hearsay over her say. That was up until Slim stepped up. “Bra, ‘member when I told you I knew the chick from somewhere?” It had instantly all came back to Slim at that very incident.
“Yeah. Why?”
“Now I know. Ol’ girl ain’t lying. She was the same chick that Big Pat had me go down to bring up to VIP to celebrate with him. That’s her, feisty, sexy with a ‘hood flair. I knew I remembered that fly mouth bitch from somewhere. That’s her bra. Even Chi can vouch for that because he sent her down there first and they bumped heads.”
It all became clear to him then because he could vividly recall when a few niggas had told him there was a bad broad that his father met at their strip club, and she was the last person they had known him to be with the night of his death. He had bragged on bagging her after he took her out for dinner. But her identity was unknown until Paris had just exposed her.
Snapping back to reality, Quasim shook his head. “I should’ve known you was some bullshit after I met your grimy ass dad!” He shook his head as he began to pace back and forth, tapping the barrel of the gun at his throbbing temple. It was as if he was losing his mind completely and ready to punish himself from her deception.
“Why are you doing this, though?” Semaj asked, in between her cries. For some reason though, she felt that her secret had finally come to the light.
At that moment, Paris came from the corner of the room and Semaj got the confirmation she needed. “Sorry, Maj but the queen’s time has run its course,” she said in a sinister tone. “Look where thinking you’re better than other people got you, Semaj. You get a little fame and wanna look down on everybody that was there before this Hollywood shit. But I got news for you. You and your li’l perfect life is over,” she snickered, enjoying the sight of Semaj in a room full of snakes trying to escape like a tiny mouse from its temp tank. “I told him everything and left nothing out. You have nobody left. Nobody can help you. You’re now left alone in this world and it’s the price you have to pay for being a trifling ass bitch.” Paris conjured up a throat full of green phlegm and blew it so it could land dead smack in her face. “Sorry, Miss Movie Star, but after this I know your career is over. You have no one to turn to,” she scoffed.
“All because I tried to polish you up, though, and wanted you to be something more than a cokehead, you played me over some jealousy shit? I showed you love!” Semaj squealed as she held herself in pain not even thinking about the mucus on her face.
“Haven’t somebody told you that there are no friends in this world. Ain’t you smart enough to never tell a mu’fucka your darkest secrets,” Paris laughed evilly as she ran her hand across Semaj’s cheek.
“Only if you would’ve just worried about your fucking self, you wouldn’t be in this fucked up predicament. I bet you’d think twice before thinking you’re better than anybody else again,” Paris stated coldly as she made an exit in satisfaction.
Focusing her attention on Quasim, Semaj hopelessly watched as he pulled out a box from his pants pocket. Opening it up, he shook his head dismissively as he gazed at the emerald-cut diamond ring. “I loved you, man.” A lone tear unintentionally slipped down his cheek. “My pops though! You were out to get me too, huh?”
“No. It was just something that happened in the game I was in. I would never do anything to hurt you. Baby, I’m begging you, can we just start over? Please. On everything, can you just hear me out? Your father was never supposed to die.”
Looking at her bloodshot cherry red eyes, he was at a loss for words. But as bad as he wanted to start over with their love he couldn’t. He was a man cut from a G-cloth, and to forgive her would only show weakness. Quasim couldn’t disrespect the G-code for anyone. “Why, Semaj? Why you have to fuck up a good thing?”
“I’m so sorry! Please forgive me. I never knew that was your father until that night my daddy came into your house. I swear to you, baby. I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you. On my life, I never knew.”
“And I never knew someone that I held so dear to my heart would be t
he one to betray me. It’s because of me that you broke into the film business. I introduced you to a life that you would’ve never experienced. Before me you were conspiring with your father setting niggas up trying to make it.” He could barely look at her. It hurt too badly. “All that I’ve exposed you to and this is the shit that explodes in my face!” his voice roared throughout the room as his anger enhanced from the thought of having his father’s killer around him for all that time and never knew it. He pulled the hammer back and pointed it at her head, as he stood over Semaj ready to murder her at point blank range. His finger trembled on the trigger.
Disdain and dismay consumed him as he contemplated taking her life. Her dishonor stung at his heart and it disgusted him to know that she was capable of such treachery. She had committed the unforgivable. Even unconditional love couldn’t peel away the hatred that replaced the admiration he once held in his heart for her. He hated her with all of his soul and was ready to end her life with one shot, but Mike-Mike stepped in.
“Qua, this bitch ain’t even worth it, son,” he tried convincing him. “Fam, it’s too many mu’fuckin’ witnesses in this bitch. I understand more than anybody that you wanna get her but here ain’t the place for that shit. We’ll get at her later.”
Mike-Mike turned out to be Semaj’s lifesaver. “Get the fuck out!” Quasim screamed, dismissing her. “Get your shit outta my house and go, bitch!” he seethed in between clenched jaws as he turned his back on her and walked over to the rails. Watching the live party, his entire being felt like it had died right along with their relationship.
Though Semaj felt as if she had actually died, she mustered up the little strength she had inside her and crawled over to him, and tugged at his legs desperately. “What am I ‘pose to do now, Qua? I don’t have nobody left,” she cried, already feeling lost in the cold world. “You all I have!”
