Payback Ain't Enough

by Clark, Wahida

  “Of course not! However, I have my own opinion which ain’t important. But I practically raised you. I know you, Nay. Even though you a girl and all, yo’ daddy built you like a fine car; mean, clean, made of steel, sharp, sleek and dangerous.” He rattled off those adjectives as if he was the brand-new owner of a car just like the one he just described.

  So there it was. Boomer had laid it all out for me. I was only freed because my daddy wanted me to rule the streets in his name. I wasn’t given the option to choose. The choice had been made for me. And it’s just like my daddy to choose the game over his family.

  “We get started tonight. I gotta introduce you to some people and reintroduce you to the old heads. Just about all of them left Memphis and set up shop in Detroit. Them niggas up there so divided that we were able to slide right on in,” he said, sounding just like my dad. Neither one of them taking no for an answer. Our motto was: Money never sleeps.

  SHAN

  I waited around for two days, hoping that Briggen would get out on bond or at the very least send for me. When he didn’t, I dropped Anthony off at Keeta’s and marched my ass right down to the Federal Detention Center where they were holding him. Those corny bastards processed me, and I sat in the visitation room only to be informed that he was no longer being housed there. He was being extradited to Miami on some old state charges he had neglected to address.

  As soon as I got to my locker to pick up my handbag and phone, I called Rudy.

  When he picked up I asked, “Rudy, this is Shan, why didn’t you tell me they moved him?”

  “They moved Calvin?” he asked, sounding surprised.

  “Uh, yeah. They moved him today. I think he’s on his way to Miami,” I regretted to inform him.

  “Shit! How do you know?”

  “I’m down here at the jail. They just told me.”

  “Hell, they obviously packed him up and wouldn’t allow him to use the phone. I’ll call you later with an update.”

  “That would be nice, Rudy,” I said sarcastically before hitting the end button on my cell.

  As soon as I got in the house, I fed Anthony and laid him down so he could take a nap. I went and got both of Briggen’s cell phones, took my time and went through them. I took a deep breath before I dialed Nick’s number. No one answered. I hit send and tried him again.

  “Brig, what’s up?”

  “It’s not Briggen, Nick. It’s me, Shan,” I told him.

  “Li’l sis, you alright? What’s up?” he asked, concerned.

  “I need to see you. Briggen is locked up. Can you come by?”

  “When?”

  “Now! It’s important.”

  “No problem. I’ll be there in a few hours.”

  Those few hours felt like a few days. I paced nervously back and forth and kept looking out the window. I redusted the furniture and wiped down the already spotless kitchen counter. Finally, I saw a black Hummer whip into the driveway and park. I watched Nick as he got out and rushed up the driveway and onto the porch. I opened the door. When he stepped inside the house, I looked at him and started crying.

  “Shan, what’s going on? Did he hurt you?” he asked, sounding like a worried father.

  I shook my head no.

  “Then what’s the matter?”

  “I’m trippin’, that’s all. And seeing you reminds me a lot of my brother and Brianna, reminds me too much of the past that I miss so much. Sorry about that,” I said and left to go get some tissue.

  When I came back into the living room Nick grabbed me in a bear hug. “I’m glad I found you,” he exhaled.

  “Where have you been, Nick? My brother—” I wanted to tell him what I had been thinking, but he stopped me.

  “Shan, I know. You don’t have—” he paused. “There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about how I wasn’t there for you and Peanut.”

  “Where were you, Nick? I mean, you just up and disappeared.”

  “Trinidad. My father lost his sight. He went blind. He refused to come over here and let me care for him. He suffered for almost a year before he died of natural causes. I have to believe it when they say, ‘death comes in threes.’ First Brianna, then Peanut and then my dad. I’m sorry Shan. You know if I could have been there I would have been,” he explained.

  Even though I didn’t know his father, I was sorry to hear that he had passed away. That didn’t stop me, however, from being angry at him for not being there for my brother who was the only person in the world, other than my son and Briggen that mattered to me. Before I knew it, tears were once again streaming down my cheeks.

  “I miss him so much, Nick. You don’t understand.” My stomach knotted up at the thought.

  “Shan, I know. I miss him too, and he made me promise that if anything happened to him I would look after you. I’m sorry. Once I found out where you were, I came to check on you. I’m kicking myself because I feel like I came too late, and the worst part is, you were right here under my nose all of this time.”

  “But how did you find me?”

  “That’s a long story, and it doesn’t matter now,” Nick said. “All that matters is, I found you.”

  “So now what?” I asked, smiling through my tears. “You are going to pick me up and take me away? Did you even know that I had a baby?”

  “Yeah I heard. And looks just like Peanut. I had to contain myself when I saw it was you in the backyard. They said you was all wifed up with Brig. I said they had the wrong Shan.”

  “I know. So now what? We gotta lot of catching up to do.” I whispered as if Briggen were in the next room and Nick was going to sneak me out of the house. I was trippin’.

  “When do you want to do that? You have to let me know when you are ready,” he replied.

  “What makes you think I ain’t ready now?”

  “Because you’re just calling me. I came by here a couple of weeks ago. Did Briggen tell you to call me?” he asked me.

  I shook my head no. “I told you he’s locked up. I called you because I need to show you something.” And with those words a bit of weight seemed to lift up off me. I grabbed his hand and led him to the garage. I flipped on the light, and he followed down the steps. I lifted the drop cloth off the two duffel bags. “Open them up,” I directed.

  Nick knelt down and unzipped the first bag and saw the cash. He let out a whistle as he thumbed through the stacks of dough. He zipped the money bag back up and unzipped the other one. He whistled again. He saw the keys of dope, took them out and separated them.

  He stood up, looked at me and shook his head in disgust. “Why would that nigga, Briggen, try his hand with you? And you’re pregnant with his seed! That is fucked up. I expected more from him. I’m all for ride-or-die broads, but this is on some other shit,” he spat.

  “Nick, no. Calm down. For starters, I am not a little girl anymore. I’m a grown-ass woman. And Briggen doesn’t even know anything about these two bags. That’s why I called you. I stumbled across them a couple of days ago,” I explained.

  “Whoa. Come again?” he asked confused.

  “See, look at the side of my car. Some niggas in a pickup hit me. I jumped out ready to curse out whoever it was and call 911, but instead, I stumbled across this shit.” I pointed at the bags.

  “Awww, fuck, Shan! You know somebody is looking for this, right? Whoever shit this is, is going to want it! Who all was with you? What did the nigga look like? How did you just take their shit? Who saw you?” He rambled off so many questions I didn’t know where to start. “And they fucked up your car. Your tag. Where’s your tag? Please don’t tell me you lost your damn tag. You got the tag, right?”

  I bit my bottom lip and said, “My tag fell off.” The way he looked at me when I said that had me shook and feeling like I should have left the shit right there. “I went back for it, and it was gone,” I told him that part under my breath.

  “Damn, Shan!” he mumbled. I could hear the disappointment in his voice.

  “Wh
at was I supposed to do, Nick? The shit fell right into my lap. I wasn’t going to leave it. Would you have left it? Can you help me or not? I need your help,” I pleaded after just showing him all of my cards.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  DARK

  It took me a few days, but I finally got put on. I didn’t meet with Cisco himself, but with one of his lieutenants named Dreamer. I bought a key of coke and told him I needed to speak to Cisco because I heard that he was hurtin’ ’em out here.

  “Hurtin’? Hurtin’, muthafucka? Who the fuck is you? Looks like you the one hurtin’ if all you can afford is one key! And you wanna talk to the boss? You better get yo’ broke ass the fuck outta here with that bullshit.” Dreamer gritted his teeth, pushing me like I was some feen who just sucked his dick for a rock. I stumbled back, but as soon as I caught my ground, I pulled out my burner and shot him in the leg.

  “Ouch, muthafucka! Owwwshit!” he hollered and groaned as he fell to the ground. “What the fuck is the matter with you?”

  “Your ignorant ass must be tired of living!” I snapped as I stood over him and grinded my boot into the fresh bullet wound. I wanted to torture this muthafucka but had to remind myself to chill. I was on an important mission and couldn’t allow my temper to fuck it up.

  “AAAAH!” he let out a painful scream as I snatched the pouch that held the loot I had just used to cop the key. “Oh, so now you gonna rob me? You’s a dead nigga!” he yelled at me.

  Before he could say another word I applied more pressure to his leg.

  “AAAAH, shit, man! What the fuck?”

  “You must be the dumbest dope dealer in the ‘D’. Your bitch ass don’t even have a burner or a lookout. I could kill you right now! Get your boss on the phone. Tell him I want to give him his money personally,” I commanded.

  “Is you the police?” he asked.

  “Hell no, I ain’t the muthafuckin’ police. My ass just got done finishing up a bid,” I told this stupid muthafucka.

  “Well, I can tell you right now, he ain’t coming down here to see you.”

  “Nigga, you got two choices. I’ll shoot you again and let you lay here and bleed to death, or you can get him down here. It’s up to you.”

  We were in the back of a storefront, and it wasn’t even eleven o’clock in the morning. This clown was all by himself, and somebody was ringing the buzzer, probably another customer trying to get some dope.

  “Yo, hit the buzzer and tell them to come back later,” this clown had the nerve to tell me.

  “Later?” I could only laugh to myself at this fool. I went to the wall and hit the silver button. “Come back later!” I roared into it. Whoever was there buzzed again. “I said come back later! Damn,” I roared again, hoping that whoever it was got the message.

  Dreamer had taken off his white tee and wrapped it around his wound. “I’m fuckin’ bleeding, yo!” he bawled out.

  “What the fuck do you think you should be doing? Get Cisco down here. Tell him to come alone. Now, muthafucka!” I instructed.

  He started laughing as he took his cell out and pressed a button. “He ain’t gonna come here, and if he do, he damn sure ain’t gonna come alone,” he said with confidence.

  “Just get the nigga on the phone.” He was really starting to piss me off.

  “Ay, I need you to come to the store. This nigga here say he took your money. He said if you want it come and—”

  I snatched the phone from this bitch-ass faggot. “Look, dawg, I ain’t trying to beef with you. I’m trying to eat with you. I just came off a seven-year stretch. And once you hear what I have to say, you won’t be mad. Plus, I got your bread and I ain’t giving it to this pussy.” Dude was quiet on the other end. I wasn’t sure if he had hung up or what.

  “So you thinkin’ you just gonna take my shit?” he asked me.

  “Nah, playboy. I told you it ain’t like that.”

  “He shot me!” Dreamer yelled in the background like a bitch in a bedroom.

  “I’m here, solo. I got yo’ money. You can either come get it, or I can drop if off to you. You da man. It’s your call.”

  “He shot me!” Dreamer yelled out again. “I’m shot!”

  “Did he say you shot him? Is that what I keep hearing him say?” he questioned.

  “Yeah, that’s what he said. Ya man needed to learn some respect, so I taught him some. He better be glad I needed to holla at you or he wouldn’t be breathing.”

  Cisco burst out laughing and asked, “You shot him? Hey, Mook, some nigga shot Dreamer!” he told another dude.

  I refused to laugh with him because this nigga was definitely a clown.

  “Just to show him how shit is done,” I reiterated.

  “Aww, man! I gots to see this! Since you got my attention I’ma check you out,” Cisco said.

  That was exactly what I needed to hear so I hung up.

  “Nigga, you watch. He ain’t gonna give you no job. Only thing you gonna get is a bullet through your head,” Dreamer called out warning me.

  “Man, shut the fuck up before I tape yo’ mouth shut!” I threatened.

  “Fuck you, nigga,” he said in his best tough guy voice. So I got up and shot him in the other leg just in case he was thinking about trying something. I found some black electrical tape and some cords. I tied his hands behind his back and taped up his mouth. He was screaming at me as the buzzer and his cell kept ringing. I knew I would have to kill this nigga.

  Finally, after about an hour of waiting on “tha boss,” the back door opened and a nigga with dreads stepped in, burners waving in each hand.

  “Eat the floor, muthafucka!” he yelled at me.

  “Naw, my man. I ain’t the laying-down type nigga. I will lay my gun down, but that’s about it,” I said standing my ground.

  “I said eat the floor, muthafucka!” he spat, and I heard one slip into the chamber.

  I slowly slid my gat on the desk. “It’s only peace with me, man. I just want to pay the man what I owe him,” I explained and got on the floor. I would get with this nigga another time.

  “I said eat it!” he exclaimed furiously.

  As I lay thinking about my face touching this dirty-ass floor, I heard the laugh. I recognized it to be Cisco’s. He was over by Dreamer and pulling the tape off his mouth. Dreamer wasted no time giving his half-assed version of why he was lying on the floor, both legs shot up. I got a little shook when I realized Cisco was no longer laughing. And I no longer had my burner. I had made myself a sitting duck.

  The dude with the dreads came over to me, kicked my foot and told me to get up. I did and he frisked me and told me to get against the wall. Out the corner of my eye I saw Cisco approaching wearing a shiny platinum and diamond necklace. He walked over, bent down and got my gat.

  The silence in the room was thick until Cisco spoke. “You know what? The only thing worse than a nigga is an incompetent mutherfucker.” Then he walked back over to Dreamer and shot him once in his dome. His brains splattered against the wall.

  Point taken.

  “The nigga recently made me lose some money,” Cisco said before turning his attention my way. “My man, what’s your story?” he asked me.

  “I’ve been home for almost three weeks. I just did seven in the Feds for trafficking and possession, and I have no time to waste. As you can see with that muthafucka over there. Your money for the key is sitting right there. That’s it, and that’s all,” I explained.

  “A key, huh? Who you work for?” Cisco asked.

  “I don’t work for anybody. I’m hungry out here,” I told him.

  Then after about a half hour of him grillin’ me about what hood I was from, what I did time for, where I did time, who I ran with, he finally got down to business. But not before he had the dread get on the phone and check me out some more.

  “Where you set up at?” he asked.

  “Nowhere yet.”

  “Then how you gonna move a key?”

  “I got soldiers waitin’ on t
his. As a matter a fact, I can come see you in a couple of days. From what I can see, you short on muscle and brains. That cat over there shouldn’t have been here by himself,” I informed him.

  “This my spot. I run this all up and down here,” Cisco said, waving his hand as if it were a magic wand referring to the block.

  “That’s what’s up. I wouldn’t mind getting in on the action. Plus, word on this same street here is you just suffered a major loss and you know that should have never happened,” I said.

  The way Cisco was looking at me, I wasn’t sure if he was going to take me out or what. But I had to put it out there.

  Finally he said to his dread, “Yo, Dread! Call Duke and y’all get this nigga’s shit cleaned up.” He pointed to the mess he made from blowing Dreamer’s brains out. “Me and this hungry nigga here gonna make a run.”

  My key was in a box inside of a brown shopping bag. I pointed to it. “That’s mine, and the money is right there,” I had to remind this nigga.

  Cisco headed for the door and said to me, “Leave that shit there. It ain’t going nowhere. I damn sure ain’t gonna be ridin’ around dirty. And for the record, I’m only giving you a pass this once for shooting a team member. So, today is your lucky day, hungry man.”

  SHARIA

  My plan was falling into place perfectly. Dark hadn’t been out a month, and he was already on Cisco’s team. It was on and poppin’. Hooking them two niggas up was like me creating my own Frankenstein monster. Dark had it fixed in his mind that it was going to be a slow grind where he would be moving a key here and there. But hell no! Once Cisco saw how fearless he really was, the shit was over. Cisco kept Dark with him, but they were making things hot because now Cisco felt even more invincible now that the whole Eastside was his. He took over every nigga’s block. The dread who ran the weed spot… dead. Papi who was selling E and coke out of the back of the bodega… dead. The niggas who had the clothes and bootleg DVD’s, CD’s and crack spot were the only ones who bowed down and joined his team. Cisco wanted all the business and all the money. He was greedy. He had Dark working night and day, putting the fear in niggas and putting his own people up in those same spots.