BURY ME A G, #1
Page 20
“Uh huh,” Threat grinned and locked lips with Bianca.
The older man approached wearing a charming smile. He was a mahogany toned brother with a salt and pepper goatee. You could tell by his appearance that when he was a youth he was a handsome lad, but old age and street life had caught up to him. The man wore a purple fedora and a tailor-made suit. Over it he donned a cape like a pimp out of a 70s exploitation flick. On his feet were black Mauri shoes and they were shining like buffed hospital floors.
He stopped before Chevy and Tiaz. He removed his fedora exposing his finger-waved hair and patted the beads of sweat from his forehead with his handkerchief. He put the fedora back on his head and slipped the handkerchief back into his suit jacket’s breast pocket.
“Hello, Ms. Lady, would you like to dance?” he asked Chevy.
Before Chevy could open her mouth Tiaz spoke up for her, “Nah, she’s good, homie. She’s chilling with her man right now.”
“Brotha, I believe I was talking to the lady.” The older man acknowledged Tiaz for the first time.
“And I believe I was talking to you.” Tiaz clenched his teeth, exposing the skeletal bone structure of his jaws. Though he was displaying hostility, the older man was still boasting that charming smile of his. It was as if he didn’t even acknowledge the mean mug he was projecting.
“How about it, Ms. Lady?” The older man addressed Chevy once again.
Tiaz made to get up but Chevy leaned all of her weight back against him. She grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him, their tongues dancing in one another’s mouths. They kissed on the lips one last time then she looked to the older man. “Like my boo said, I’m chilling with him right now.” The older man tipped his fedora and wandered off into the sea of people out on the dance floor. “That old man was weird.” She sipped her drink.
“You set that old nigga right, Love.” Tiaz kissed her on her neck.
“That’s right, I know who this pussy belongs to.” Chevy stated proudly.
“Is that so? Well, tatt my name on it so I know it’s real.” He told her as he kissed on her neck. Chevy laughed and tilted her neck to the side where he was kissing her.
After a couple of more drinks Chevy was finally able to get Tiaz to come out onto the dance floor with her. She, Tiaz, Threat and Bianca had a ball dancing the night away. Although Tiaz was having fun, he couldn’t help but notice that the older man Bianca had been dancing with was watching them while savoring his glass of dark liquor.
The older man played the corner of the club along with two henchmen that Tiaz hadn’t taken notice of until now. He couldn’t quite make out what they looked like due to them being hidden within the confines of the shadows. When the deejay announced the last song, Tiaz looked over his shoulder and saw that the older man and his henchmen had vanished.
The quartetmade their way outside before the last song was over so they wouldn’t be caught up in the wave of club goers leaving. As soon as they stepped foot outside, Tiaz and Threat were called by the old man who’d been playing the guitar when they first arrived at the club.
“Say, you two brothas wouldn’t happen to be Tiaz and Threat, now would ya?” The old man asked as he took pulls from the cigarette wedged between his fingers.
“Who wants to know?” Threat and Tiaz turned around with scowls plastered on their mugs.
“That’s confirmation enough.” The old man said to no one in particular. He dropped the cigarette on the ground and mashed it out under the heel of his dress shoe. He sat up in his chair, gripping the guitar and clearing his throat. He swallowed then began to sing a song about the Grim Reaper coming to claim the souls of two men who were ignorant of his presence.
Tiaz, Threat and the girls watched the old man as he performed the ballad. The old man finished the last few bars of the song.
“He wears a hood over his head/a scythe with a blade ‘bout as long as your leg/ it’s too late to scream ‘cause you’re already dead/ what’s understood doesn’t have to be said/ here he comes/ here he cuhhhhhhmes/here he comes/ here he cuhhhhhhmes/ death awaits...”
While the old man continued his crooning, Tiaz and Threat’s heads darted around. They were on high alert, looking all around for any threat to their lives.Theold man brushed his thumb and index finger across the strings of his guitar one last time, finishing the song. He then removed his hat and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.
“Who told you to play that song for us?” Threat scowled.
“A smooth talking dude in a snazzy purple suit described how you two brothas looked and gave me your names.” The old man went on to tell them. “He asked me did I have any dark songs I could play. I told ‘em I sure do. I sung some of the lyrics to that there original piece I just serenaded you young men with and he liked it. Man paid me a $100 dollars and told me to sing it to you.”
Threat and Tiaz exchanged glances, realizing who the old man was talking about.
“What was his name? Did he tell you who he was?” Tiaz asked.
The old man lit up the cigarette he removed from his pocket, took a couple puffs then blew out a roar of smoke. Shaking his head no, he replied, “Afraid not, gentlemen. The fella dropped a yard on me, described you two and told me to sing that song to you when you came outta this here establishment.” He motioned toward the club with the hand he held the cigarette in.
“Majestic?” Bianca said, remembering the name. Threat and Tiaz turned around to her. “While we were dancing he told me his name was Majestic.”
The sound of a horn being honked startled everyone and caused them to turn to the street. A limousine was there. Its windows were tinted so dark that you couldn’t peer inside. The backseat window slowly rolled down and exposed the face of the man hidden inside.
It was Majestic, and he was smiling sinisterly. Instantly his face morphed into a frown and he squared his jaws, moving to point something out of the window. Tiaz and Threat’s eyes bugged and their mouths dropped open. They were frozen with terror and all they could do was wait for the shot that would end one of their lives.
***
Baby Wicked stood before the nightstand mirror practicing drawing his .38 special from his waistline. He’d pull the pistol from his waistline and point it at the mirror. He did this several times, trying to shorten the draw time with every try. He wanted to be swift on the draw when Maniac and Time Bomb came back around. He had to be ready when that beef came his way. He was dealing with killers who were in a league of their own. They’d murdered more men than he could count on the fingers of both of his hands. They’d perfected the art of murder, while he wasn’t even a novice. So he had to be on point when the drama jumped off again.He and Te’Qui’s lives depended on it.
“How long are you going to keep that up?” Te’Qui asked as he broke down Kush buds upon a Source magazine.
“‘Til I’m the fastest gun on the east,” Baby Wicked answered. “You need to practice too, since we’re going to be trading places back and forth while we’re out there.”
“I will.” Te’Qui sprinkled the Kush inside of the blunt and licked it closed.
“Moms know that you’re spending the night?”
“Yeah, she went out to some club with Tiaz and his homie, Threat,” he replied, taking a pull from the blunt.
“Here, nigga, you try it.” Baby Wicked passed him the .38 and took the blunt from him. He watched Te’Qui practice his drawing while he smoked on the blunt.
They had to be ready for the Avalon’s this time, their lives would be at stake.
***
The hospital room was dimly lit. The only sound that could be heard was the TV of the neighboring patient and the machines that kept Ta’shauna Reed alive. With a bullet to the skull the doctors had written her off as a goner but miraculously she survived what should have been a fatal wound. Now she was in a fight, not one you could face with your fists, but one you would with your spirit and determination. After her surgery, the doctor said that it wa
s out of his hands and it was all up to her now. If her will was strong enough, then she could come out of her coma and make a full recovery. If it wasn’t then The Reeds would be making funeral arrangements.
When Threat had shot her in the head that day he believed that was the end of her. So for her to survive the fatal blast, shocked him. Now he had to rely on her not making it post surgery, but thenthere was another thing he wasn’t counting on, though. Her will to survive being stronger than her willingness to die.
If Ta’shauna wasn’t anything else she was a fighter. She’d been chunking them all of her life. So it wasn’t nothing for her to knuckle up and throw down for hers, but this was different. This was the greatest fight of her life against an opponent she didn’t see coming. It didn’t matter, though, because there wasn’t any way in hell she was going out without a fight.
Beep! Beep! Beep!
The heart monitor made its noise as a zig zag green line ran continuously across the screen. There was a stillness and then calmness inside of the room. And then a miracle happened. Ta’shauna’s righthand twitched.
***
Kantrell came down the staircase wearing a crooked grin and looking at her cell phone’s screen. She was looking through the naughty pictures that she’d been sending Tiaz that night. After making herself a sandwich and pouring a glass of Gingerale, she plopped down on the couch and turned on the flatscreen. She picked up the remote control and turned on the Blu-Ray player, activating the movie she was going to watch that night: A Good Day to Die Hard.
She bit into her sandwich just as the previews for other movies began to play, the blue glow of the television flashing across her face.
Meanwhile...
He parked the G-ride around the corner from her house and killed the engine. He placed a neoprene on the lower half of his face and pulled the drawstrings of his hood, closing it around his head. His gloved hand dipped beneath the driver seat and came back up clutching a chrome .45 with a black silencer.
Once he made sure it was locked and loaded, he hopped out of the stolen car and crept up the driveway of the house next door. He hopped the back gate of the house and landed into the backyard of Kantrell’s crib. He moved as stealthy as a thief, tip toeing up the steps of the back porch.
Tucking his weapon into the small of his back, he took the pins he’d need to pick the lock. Having gotten the door open, he snuck into the house smiling sinisterly as he withdrew the gun from around his back. When he emerged into the kitchen’s doorway he could see the back of Kantrell’s head as she watched TV. The living room was dark and the illumination of the television outlined her head.
Yeah, bitch, I told you, you weren’t getting away with that shit, he thought as he lifted his weapon to deliver the kill shot.
To Be Continued...
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