“Why? ’Cuz you were in the middle of something? Fuck that bitch!”
The stripper became panicky and hurried to collect her clothing.
Citi wasn’t having it. She rushed for the naked girl and attacked her, throwing blows at the girl’s head like she was Iron Mike Tyson. She knocked the petite stripper across her pale face and made her stumble into the wall.
The stripper tried to fight back, but she was no match for Citi.
Maino rushed over to the fight and pulled Citi off the girl, and in one rapid movement, he backhanded Citi and sent her flying across the room. “What the fuck is wrong wit’ you, bitch?” he yelled.
“Why you hit her like that, Maino?” Lola yelled.
“You shut the fuck up, bitch!” Maino screamed.
Citi regained her composure and went charging at Maino. “You fuckin’ bastard!” she screamed.
She leaped at him, but Maino quickly overpowered her and punched her like she was a man, and she went crashing to the floor. The stripper seized the opportunity and ran out the office in tears.
“Chill the fuck out, Citi!” Maino exclaimed. “Relax, you silly bitch!”
By this time, a crowd had gathered inside the office to witness the altercation.
“I love you, baby,” Citi cried out. “Why you doin’ this to me?”
Maino sighed. He noticed the people in his office. “Everybody, get the fuck out my office! Get the fuck back to work!”
The onlookers rushed out of Maino’s office like it was on fire, leaving Citi and Maino alone. Maino slammed the door shut.
The people outside the office could hear the argument from the hallway. Their hush-hush relationship was now exposed.
26
“Yo, I’ma kill that nigga, Maino!” Cane shouted.
It didn’t take long for the brothers to find out that Maino was fucking their little sister. Citi tried to deny the affair, but the word was out in the streets. News of the altercation at the strip club spread throughout Queens like a virus. Everyone was talking, and they had all had their two cents to add to the story.
“This shit ain’t happening right now,” Chris said.
“What you talkin’ about, Chris?” Cane replied.
“This shit here, this thing with Citi and Maino.”
“Look, when I see that nigga, I’ma pop him.”
“You ain’t gonna do shit, Cane. Relax, and stop being so fuckin’ impulsive.”
“What? That nigga Maino is fuckin’ our little sister, and you standing there tryin’ to tell me to relax. Nigga, you must be out ya damn fuckin’ mind! This is family, nigga!”
“I know that,” Chris said, “but I’m in business with him. I need you to chill out while I think this shit through.”
“What is there to fuckin’ think through, Chris?” Cane screamed. “He disrespected our family, put his dick and hands on our sister, and you sayin’ he don’t deserve to get got? Fuck outta here! You must be thinkin’ crazy.”
Chris knew Cane was right, but Maino had power and muscle behind him.
Cane didn’t want to do any more talking. He didn’t want to hear any excuses from Chris. He walked out the Rochdale apartment, the thought of Maino, a grown-ass man, fuckin’ his little sister sending him into a sadistic frenzy. Citi had been disrespected, and their family’s name had been violated. He got into his Acura and sped away.
Chris stood out on the terrace that had a picturesque view of a sprawling Queens from ten stories up smoking a cigarette. The incident put him between a rock and a hard place. He thought, How would Pop handle his? But no suggestions came to him. He felt like he was being thrust into a civil war. Maino was like family to him and had become a father figure to him after Curtis’ murder. He felt conflicted. Maino was his backbone and connect on the streets, but that was his little sister.
He flicked the cigarette over the terrace and walked into the apartment. When he neared the wall, the rage bubbling inside of him surfaced. He put his fist through the wall. “Fuck me!” he screamed.
****
Cane drove around aimlessly, feeling like the Terminator, a .380 with hollow tips underneath his seat and a sawed-off shotgun in the trunk of his car. His mind was on Citi and Maino. It was embarrassing to have his little sister sneaking around with Maino. Everyone was talking, and he was ready to shut them up.
The sun was slowly setting, and night was about to cover the city. The Queens streets were bustling with traffic, people, and activity.
Cane slowly cruised down Merrick Boulevard with his window down, puffing on a joint, and the radio off. His irritation was his sole entertainment. He drove by the popular barbershop, Smitty’s Cuts, on Merrick Boulevard, and his eyes lit up when he noticed Maino’s truck parked outside. “Muthafucka!”
Cane quickly doubled around and parked a few cars down the block, from where he watched the front entrance of the almost empty barbershop like a hawk. He removed his pistol from beneath his seat and checked the clip to ensure it was fully loaded.
When Maino and Donny emerged from the barbershop, Cane quickly exited his ride and proceeded toward the two men, who were walking toward the SUV. Both men could’ve been armed, but Cane didn’t care about that. He wanted to confront Maino and really put him down.
Just as Donny reached for the driver’s side door handle to usher Maino inside like he was the don thug, Cane sprung up on the two men like a flash with the .380 in his hand, his sights on Maino. He fired twice.
Bam! Bam!
The two shots slammed into Donny’s side, pushing him back with force and dropping him to the pavement.
Maino spun around to see Cane glaring at him. The gun was mere inches from his face. “Cane, what the fuck!” Maino yelled.
“Shut the fuck up!”
The gunfire sent everyone running for cover.
Maino locked eyes with Cane. He had been caught slipping. He knew his life could be over. “You on a death wish, Cane? You do this shit, and your life is over,” Maino said through clenched teeth.
“Fuck you, Maino!” Cane screamed. He was clutching the pistol so tight, it cut into his hand. “I loved you, nigga, and you fuck and hit my sister.”
“Cane, let’s talk. It ain’t what you think it is,” Maino said calmly. “I love her.”
“Shut up!”
Maino took a deep breath. “Don’t do this, Cane. We’re still family. You hear me, nigga?”
Tears trickled from Cane’s eyes. When he looked at Maino, it was like staring at his father. He had grown up loving and knowing the man since he was in diapers. The hesitation in Cane made Maino realize that he could walk away from death.
Meanwhile, Donny lay on the pavement bleeding like a gutted pig but was still alive.
“Stay away from her, Maino. I’m fuckin’ warning you.” Cane let off a shot that shattered the window of the SUV, sending shards of glass flying into Maino’s face, and he took off running.
****
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Cane? Are you stupid or retarded?” Chris yelled.
“I had to step to him, Chris, let him know not to fuck with the family.”
“You step to him, pull a gun, and don’t shoot it? You know what you just started?”
“Fuck Maino! Now the nigga knows not to fuck wit’ us.”
Chris glared at his little brother and felt like strangling him. He paced around the apartment shirtless and stressed. “I told you to let me handle it!” Chris screamed.
“Well, I stepped up.”
“How, Cane? What did you do? Huh, nigga? You pissed the nigga off. Now I gotta go out there and clean up your mess.”
Cane twisted his face at Chris. “You ain’t gotta do shit, Chris. We the niggas that are up and coming. Maino’s about to be washed up.”
“You just don’t get it, Cane, and unfortunately, you never will.”
“Whatever! I’m out. I ain’t the one lookin’ like the bitch with his tail between his legs. Niggas bleed just like everyone else. I don’t fear no fuckin’ body.”
“And that’s your problem—You don’t think before you react.”
27
The pussy was like heaven to Cane. He was fucking one of his jump-offs like a jackrabbit, hitting it from the back, pulling her hair, and smacking her ass. Tonya liked it rough, and Cane gave it to her like a beast. Being inside of Tonya was a stress-reliever for him.
Several days had passed since he’d pulled that gun out on Maino. The streets were buzzing about Maino almost being gunned down by Cane. Donny had survived the shots and was in critical condition at Jamaica Hospital.
Chris had warned his brother to remain low-key for a few days. He’d planned to go see Maino and have a serious talk with him, but he never got the chance because Maino had been out of sight, and no one knew where he was. That worried Chris.
Cane was enjoying a few hours of paradise with Tonya in her two-bedroom home in St. Albans. She was a voluptuous, caramel cutie with a big booty and a freakish appetite for sex. In her early twenties, she was mesmerized by Cane’s thuggish ways and his cash flow. Tonya loved her bad boys. She gave him a place to stay when he needed to escape from the streets, gave him pussy when he showed up to her place horny and frustrated, and she cooked for him. But Cane, trapped in his street ways, sometimes took Tonya for granted. Tonya was ready to hold him down. All he had to do was give the word, and take her seriously.
Tonya rolled off the dick after Cane nutted inside of her. Once again, Cane had fucked the shit out of her, leaving her winded. They had just finished round three of straight fornication, and they couldn’t get enough of each other.
Cane rose up off his back and reached for his pack of cigarettes next to his .45 on the nightstand. He removed two cigarettes, passed one to Tonya, and lit up. The two enjoyed a smoke and some small talk.
After a moment of talking, Cane started to get dressed. Tonya tried to convince him to stay, but he reminded her that he had business to tend to in the streets. He collected his things and stuffed the .45 into his waistband, smiling at Tonya and headed for the front door.
Tonya followed him.“Be careful, baby,” she said to him.
Cane stood on her front porch taking in the early evening. The block was quiet, and there was still about an hour of daylight left. He hit the alarm to his Acura parked across the street.
He took one look at Tonya watching him from the doorway. “I’ma holla at you later, love,” he said and started to descend from the porch.
Before he could take his foot off the porch step to approach his car, two hooded gunmen jumped out from the thick shrubbery in front of the porch, both gripping 9mm handguns.
“Baby, look out!” Tonya screamed.
Cane didn’t have enough time to react. Before he could pull his pistol from his waistband, gunfire exploded on the block.
Bak! Bak! Bak! Bak! Bak!
Five bullets struck Cane, tearing into his flesh and spinning him around violently, and he fell back against the porch stairs, fighting to survive. It felt like a sledgehammer had knocked him down. Cane made it to the doorway and collapsed on the porch, his .45 held weakly in his hand, and the gunmen fled on foot just as quickly as they’d appeared.
Tonya was screaming her head off, gazing at Cane sprawled out by her feet in a pool of blood, his eyes flickering.
“Baby, get up, get up!” she screamed. She dropped to her knees and scooped him into her arms, and his blood stained her clothing.
****
The doctors told Chris and Citi that Cane was in a coma, in critical condition. He was shot in the chest, abdomen, and back. He had a collapsed lung, a few broken ribs, and one bullet had almost pierced his heart. He had pulled through after being in surgery for hours. Now he was in ICU hooked up to several machines with tubes in and out of him like he was some robot.
Citi cried out and shouted, “Not again! I can’t go through this shit again, Chris. What the fuck!” She slammed her head into her brother’s chest and sobbed heavily.
Chris held her closely, shedding tears of his own. He didn’t know if his brother would live or die. “I’m gonna handle it, Citi. You got my fuckin’ word. I’m gonna take care of this shit. Cane’s a tough muthafucka. He’s gonna be all right. You hear me, Citi?”
Chris tried to keep a positive attitude. His goons were with him in the hospital to show support. Cane’s shooting circulated through the hood like a fast wind. His crew quickly loaded up and was ready to hit the streets on a killing spree, but Cane had so many enemies, it was hard to pinpoint the culprit or culprits behind the shooting.
Jamaica Hospital was active with medical staff, nurses, and doctors running around in every direction. Chris hated hospitals. It reminded him of death. It was a place for the weak, where victims came to die, not to heal. He had one arm around Citi and the other behind the chair next to him. They lay slumped together amid the chaos, waiting for an update on Cane’s condition.
The doctors had told Chris that the difficult part was over with: the surgery. They were able to remove three out of the five slugs from his body. The other two bullets were lodged in crucial places, and they couldn’t attempt to remove those shells until the swelling went down.
Chris sighed. His family had been through the ringer. The haters were out there. The Byrnes family had red bull’s-eyes on their backs, and Chris knew he had to be extra careful.
As the siblings sat together, hoping and praying for their brother to pull through, Chris looked up and noticed Maino walking toward them. Chris didn’t know what to think of it. He suspected Maino could have been responsible for the hit on his brother, but Cane had so many foes. Could it have been a coincidence that he’d been shot down a few days after he pulled his gun on Maino and shot Donny?
Maino walked toward them politely, a concerned expression on his face.
After Chris rose up, Citi removed her head from her brother’s chest and saw Maino coming her way. She kept a deadpan look. She was unaware of her brother’s bold move on Maino. When she saw him, her insides lit up. She forgave him and wanted to continue with their relationship.
“Chris, how is he?” Maino asked with concern.
“He’s in a coma, in critical condition.”
“Good. Good,” Maino said, nodding his head. He looked at Citi seated in the chair and asked her, “You okay?”
Citi nodded. She wanted to jump into Maino’s arm and be with him, but her brother was around. Even though their relationship was an open secret, Citi remained content with just seeing Maino come to show support.
Maino had only come to the hospital to feel Chris out. He wanted to see what Chris knew, and to also get closer to the family in their time of need. It was a chess move. The shooters were still in the wind, and no one knew who had hired them, but Maino was certainly among the suspects.
“Chris, you know, you family, and if you and Citi need anything, I mean anything from me, y’all don’t hesitate to ask. Y’all feel me?”
Citi attempted a smile, but Chris remained nonchalant, nodding slightly. Maino couldn’t read him.
“I’ma put the word out,” Maino said, “put peoples in the streets and find out who did this shit. They gonna pay. You have my word on that, Chris. We gonna kill ’em all.”
Chris thought, Like how you promised to find my father’s killers?
Maino gave Citi a hug and Chris too. He started to leave, but motioned for Chris to walk with him toward the exit. He had a few more words to say to him.
When they were out of earshot, Maino said to Chris casually, “Look, I want you to come by the club tonight so we can talk. I wanna politick wit’ you.”
&nbs
p; Chris didn’t trust the meeting, especially at Maino’s club. It was too out-the-way, and too suspicious all of a sudden. His gut feeling told him it was a setup. He looked at Maino and replied, “Tonight’s no good. I gotta stay close by Citi’s side, make sure she’s okay with this, and then I got other shit to take care of. Maybe next time.”
“A’ight. Next time.”
After a moment of awkward silence, Maino turned on his heels and walked away, knowing Chris suspected him.
Chris felt he was being pulled into a bottomless pit. He knew when Maino invited him to the club to have words, his chances of walking out alive were slim. Maino had made his move; now it was time for Chris to make his. He had to step up even more and take control of the madness. With Cane down, his right-hand man and top enforcer, it was time for Chris to blaze his guns with a crew of young thugs once loyal to his father and now loyal to him.
****
The next day, at his Rochdale apartment, Chris began making an attempt to keep what was left of his family safe. With Cane stabilized and in a coma at Jamaica Hospital, he had to be watchful over Citi. He went into his bedroom, pulled open the dresser drawer, and removed a loaded Ruger pistol.
He went into the living room, where Citi sat silently, and shoved the gun into her hand. “You keep this on you at all times,” he said to her. “It’s for protection.”
She looked at the gun and gripped it firmly. “What’s goin’ on, Chris?”
“We at war, sis.”
“With Maino?”
“Who you think? He’s been playing us.”
Citi didn’t want to believe it. She loved Maino and believed he had genuine love for her and her family, despite their ups and downs and their differences. She watched Chris prepare for war.
A few gun-toting thugs lingered in the living room, ready to go to war. They smoked a joint, sipped on a bottle, and talked recklessly about killings and guns. Chris was the one leading the charge. He’d had enough. With Cane down, he’d suddenly become the pit bull in the streets.
Guard the Throne Page 22