Who Shot Ya Box Set

by Renta

  “You, Assata, you almost killed me,” I whispered harshly as he stared at me perplexed.

  ***

  ~ Ice-Berg~

  I awoke suddenly the sweet aroma of perfume had my senses alive. Yet, the problem was I stayed alone, so there shouldn’t have been any other scents except my own dancing around. I quickly reached for the .40 I kept cock and ready under the opposite pillow, panic and bewilderment told the story, even before the soft voice confirmed my suspicions.

  “Chu sleep as if chu safe in su casa. Chu shake hands with dangerous men. But, sleep with chu gun under your pillow, as if chu have time to grab it before enemies fill chu with bullets.”

  I reached over and turned on the lamp beside my bed. I tried not to allow fear to taint my face. But shid—this typa shit didn’t happen every day, especially to a nigga like me. Standing before me was a deadly, beautiful creature, that even I knew shouldn’t have been there. Belle held my .40 in her small hand with a grip that left me no room to doubt her experience.

  “Fuck, you doing here? Bitch, you must be crazy!” I exploded trying to crawl out of my king size bed.

  The look in her eyes said so much, that I reconsidered my decision and awaited her reasoning.

  “Chu so vulgar and disrespectful to a woman of my caliber, if chu enjoy being alive. I suggest chu be more careful with chu tongue, si. It’s a powerful little instrument, inside the bed and outside of it.” She giggled to herself.

  She studied me for a moment and did the craziest thing ever. She threw the pistol on the bed. I snatched it up before the pretty bitch could blink, my free hand squeezed her neck, cutting off every precious breath her lungs craved to keep her amongst the living.

  “Bitch, how the fuck you get in here? Why the fuck are you here?” I hissed through clenched teeth.

  I was thinking this hoe must be manic or something. Her eyes began to roll to the back of her head, yet a blissful smile creased her face. The sudden urge to jam the tool down her throat ate at me, but the sudden feeling of something hard resting against my dick told a tale of a wasted life.

  “Let—go—of—me,” She forced from somewhere deep.

  Reluctantly, I did just that a nigga needed his nature. Stepping away from her, she gulped down mouthfuls of oxygen. The black .22 she clutched was small, but I knew size had nothing to do with the results of the fire it spat. I did what seemed appropriate, I laughed. I’d already noticed the .40 had been robbed of its clip. This bitch not only found a way into my castle but also assured I’d be at no mercy.

  “Don’t you ever—ever put chu fuckin’ hands on me again,” she growled.

  “Fuck, you doing in my house, lady? You trying to get us both killed? Your husband—”

  “My husband knows nothing of this. He won’t find out if chu knows what’s best for you,” she interrupted. “Me come to ensure chu tat chu package arrived safely. I also added three more Ki’s to the seven you were already promised. Me know, chu now come home and tings are—” She paused and looked around my scarcely furnished room. “Slow, should I say. So, I want to help you climb back to the level a man like chuself deserves.”

  This bitch had lost her fuckin’ marbles. There was no way I was working for her and copping from her nigga, too.

  “Look, Mrs. Lady, you’ve violated my space. You’re holding me hostage with a .22. Your whole energy is a contradiction, that doesn’t sit well with my cipher. You have my life in the balance, yet insult the God in me by trying to make me your worker.” Deciding on chance, I walked past her, outta the direction of her little toy.

  From the first moment, I laid eyes on this hoe, I knew she was treacherous. But, she was more than sneaky and dangerous she was suicidal. Her nigga was gonna want blood for the sins of her actions. Even tho, I was ‘bout that action my pockets were too small to wage war with a kingpin, especially over a bitch. Before I could exit my room, I smashed into a stone wall, or at least I thought it was but it was just some big ugly mu’fucka, with an even bigger gun clutched in his mitts.

  This bitch done brought a cause for war into my home and all I could do was watch as shit unfolded. Glancing back at her, she smiled with an innocence, that would blindfold a nigga to her true nature if he didn’t know better.

  “Deja Que pase el,” she said.

  Whatever the fuck she said must’ve meant get the fuck out the way. The ugly mu’fucka stepped out of the way with a quickness. Stepping into my living room my thoughts lead me to the P.89, I keep under the couch cushion. However, the MAC in homie’s hand, warned me that my spirit would already be standing before, God before my hand could clutch the steel. Besides, if the hoe knew to check under my pillow in the bedroom. Then nine times outta ten the tool had already been found.

  I took a quick glance at her to find her standing in confirmation. This shit was crazy. At least that was my mindset before my eyes landed on one of the most beautiful visions I’d ever seen in my twenty-six years of living. Ten blocks of raw cocaine sat on my living room table. As I scratched my head I didn’t even notice, Belle had eased up beside me with the silence of a stalking cat.

  “Chu eyes can never lie to me, David. Chu are a lion, that needs his own pride to protect. From the very moment, I laid eyes on chu, I knew chu were Fuerte, ambisioso! El único.”

  I gazed at her quizzically, like bitch you know I’m all nigga. I don’t understand that shit.

  Catching on she said, “Strong, ambitious. The one! Me no want chu to work for me, you owe me nada. Yet, if you are half the man I assume you to be. You’ll see me beyond the nice breasts and moments of flirtation you witnessed at the poolside of me casa. Aphrodite, I think, was merely a compliment. I’d much rather be the image of Santa Muerte, the saint that me papa prays to, that his papa prayed too and—” she smiled, “—well, chu get me point, hmm.”

  Finally tearing my eyes away from the pyramid of promise. I figured out the point of this pretty mu’fuckas angle. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Belle. You disrespect my home and offer me drugs that’ll more than likely end up painted in blood. From the moment, I saw you, I knew you were sneaky and burning to dance with the devil. I don’t give a fuck what you see in me. I do know you don’t see a sucka.

  “Now, dig this, seven of these pretty bitches are paid in full, but the extra three screams future bloodshed. Since it’s your husband, you’re stealing from it’s your neck on the chopping block. My thing is nobody gives away one-hundred G’s worth of work expecting nothing in return. So, let’s cut the propaganda and talk shop. What you want from me, ma?”

  For what seemed like forever we had an eye wrestling match. Until she finally lost her fuckin’ mind and tested my nuts at the same time. Her face was stone as she stared me in the eyes.

  “Chu are absolutely correct, blood will spill in due time. The question is whose blood will it be? I no want chu love, I want chu hands wet with the blood of my husband,” she smiled. “A sacrifice to the holy death.”

  ***

  ~Assata~

  It’s been some crazy shit popping off with me in this lifetime. But, to have my nigga’s baby sister think, I tried to off her fucks with me in a crazy way.

  “Fuck are you bumpin’ ‘bout, Jazzy?” I growled.

  As rain fell from her eyes she opened a book, that crushed me to read. Even though, I’m the main character in the story. She explained how she was rocking with Nutz three days ago and someone tried to kill her. As she cried I damn near lost control, as recollection somehow transported me back to the day in question. The recoil of the MAC, as I molested the trigger, the adrenaline surged through me, as I savored the moment of twisting Nutz wig back. Then finally my thoughts landed on the bitch in the passenger seat—Jazzy.

  Instinctively, I pull her to me envisioning the blood, that coulda been spilled that day, fuck. “I apologize, mama. I didn’t know—I swear it, Jazz. You know I’d never bring harm to you.” My soul cried as I palmed her face and studied the evidence of me putting my gangsta down.


  The damage was minimal, yet anger ignited within me. “Fuck was you with that pussy for, anyway?” I seethed. “You back rockin’ with, lil’ daddy? That’s the same nigga, the streets sayin’ smoked your—damn.” In frustration, I released her and punched the wall.

  That shit slipped I could feel the heat radiating from her stare. Jealousy and insanity clouded my senses now I had to explain this shit.

  “Wha—what did you just say, Assata? Run that shit by me again. Finish yo’ statement, mu’fucka.” The defiance I knew surged through her bloodstream, boiled over into her eyes.

  I turned to face her—shiddd—somebody has to be the devil. Why not me? “Look, Jazz, the streets talked to a real nigga. It’s being whispered, Nutz and his pussy ass brother got Shy’s blood on their hands. But, we both know how the streets tell false tales. I’m not sure who wacked my dawg, but since I’m not sure. I’ma paint the city red with them, niggas, whole block.” I studied her awaiting her to lose herself in her emotions. The craziness of her reaction still had me lost for words. “Forgive, me Shy—"

  ***

  ~Nutz~

  Days passed since I was released from the hospital. I hadn’t left the safety of my crib since I got here. The pain in my shoulder was folly. My arm had a dull ache, and the right side of my body still felt numb. But at least, I still had all my limbs, and I had a live-in nurse. Well, not live in but she’s here from sun up to sun down tending to my every need.

  She cleans and dresses my wounds and makes sure the kid is fed. She even bathes a nigga. Now, that’s some boss shit.

  “Hey,” she exclaimed as if she could feel me praising her.

  “Hey, yourself, mami. What’s in the bag?” I asked since she acted like shit was top secret.

  “Nosey much,” she giggled.

  “This right here is G-14 classified, but since you need to know. I got two movies, they’re that ole school gangsta shit, too.” She pulled the whole store outta the bag, then tossed me a bag of mini butterfingers.

  “Now, that’s my shit.” I saluted her and tore the bag open.

  She held up two movies. “Love and Basketball or Menace to Society?” she questioned.

  “Menace to Society is the bidness we all know ain’t shit gangsta ‘bout no Love and Basketball. It’s good shit, though. Menace to Society, hands down!” I made my pick.

  She frowned her face. “Umph, just like a street dude, but it’s your night. So, shoot ‘em up bang-bang it is.”

  I watched as she headed for the kitchen. This had to be the baddest mu’fucka in the Lone Star State. She was a classic beauty who made a pair of sweats, and a wife beater look like a million-dollar outfit with no make-up needed. She returned from the kitchen, then dimmed the lights and joined me on the couch.

  She tucked her feet up under her legs and faced me “Thought it was a movie night, Queen—or am I the movie?” I joked watching her watch me.

  “What do you want from me, James?” The question was direct and simple. I still found myself at a loss for words.

  Yeah, I felt something for her. Yeah—I wanted to fuck the shit outta her pretty ass. But, how did I tell this woman, that the life I live is filled with monsters? That loving me is deadly? But, I want her regardless?

  “Feel me, ma, a man can swim the ocean, climb over a mountain, or try to build a staircase to heaven attempting to obtain something he can believe in. It’s crazy because once he’s earned scars and leaked his blood on different parts of the earth, just to live within the moment of holding the mu’fucka, he fought to hold—none of that shit mattered. I’m a street nigga with a dark path, Destiny. The shit I want from you can’t be placed into words because it’s something deep. I gotta show you what I want from you.” I reached over, grabbed her hand, and pulled her to me. She flinched as I placed her hand on my bandaged shoulder.

  “Destiny—this is real—these holes aren’t a part of no prep for some rap video. I understand you’re a winner, we are just in different worlds. So, what I want from you shouldn’t be the question. What I need from you will satisfy your curiosity and apprehension.”

  I pulled her feet from beneath her, then Destiny straddled me, careful not to put too much weight on my wounds. Our lips were inches apart. “Well, what do you need from me, Nutz?”

  Destiny had me hard as a rock and I threw caution to the wind. I kissed her as if life was ending any second. As I pulled away slightly, the truth slid from my lips with hopes of not getting rejected.

  “I need your life, Destiny. Your love, loyalty, your trust—I need your life, ma.”

  ***

  ~Jazzy~

  Sweat dried on our skin as we laid there spent from some real animalistic shit. This nigga was a beast in the sheets. Even though, I hadn’t had many sexual partners. I couldn’t imagine anyone with a deadlier stroke.

  “Assata—Assata,” I repeated. “Stop acting like your ass sleep. Don’t you think we have something to talk about?”

  His eyes opened slowly and just the way this man gazed at me, made me want to make sweet love to him again and again.

  “Yeah,” he responded “Why the fuck was you in the car with that lame? Let’s start there and the rest will fall in place.”

  Instantly, I got defensive. No one knew me and Nutz relationship. Not even Nuts himself. Truth be told, I loved Nutz in a sick kinda way. Assata is my childhood fantasy! I’ve always had fire for him, but he would never even consider giving into me. I wanted this man to the point of insanity, but he shunned me like the plague. That typa shit cracked a girl’s confidence, that’s exactly what happened to me.

  When my brother moved back with our moms. I was all alone with a father that meant well, but was spitting shit I wasn’t trying to hear. So, when me and Nutz met not only was it a confidence booster, it was also an opportunity to make Assata see he wasn’t the only gangsta in the world.

  Long story short, a game turned into something real as I realized some of the same attributes Assata possessed so did Nutz. Over time Nutz became my generic version of the man my heart yearned for so much, that I fell for his thuggish ass, and gave him my virginity. My heart still beats for, Assata. Seeing Nutz again awoke my feelings for him. Only long enough, for me to realize a substitute only ignites the desire for the real thing.

  How do I explain that to this man? I exhaled. ‘Just keep it funky with him’. I thought. “Assata—you know me and Nutz used to rock. I ain’t spoken for, so I saw no ill will kicking it with him. I know y’all don’t like each other, but I’m not part of that life. You’re out here living as if you’re in a Western movie. You tried to murder me.” The fire in his eyes warned me to reconsider my words. “Well, you tried to off him. The bigger picture is you coulda sent me to the same place those guys sent my brother. That was sloppy. Now you gotta worry about someone turning your name over to the cops for a five-hundred-dollar tip from crime-stoppers because your crazy ass attempted to kill someone in your own truck,” I fumed.

  His eyes let me know, I’d hit a nerve even though his facial expression stayed indifferent. “Look, Jazz, I—” he tried to explain, but I’d had enough of listening.

  “No, Assata—you look. That’s my brother who was buried under all that dirt. Now, I know you’re on top of this, but two heads are better than one. I think you’ll like my thoughts way better than your methods.” I said straddling him and easing down on his readiness. “But, first—tell me everything you’ve heard about what happened to my brother.”

  ***

  ~Snow~

  Stepping out of the shower, I felt rejuvenated not to mention, I was quarter million dollars richer. My long blonde hair looked almost brunette hanging in a tangled mess down my back. I smiled at the reflection of my perfect D-cups standing proud. Turning around I glanced at my unique ass cheeks. This ass had gotten me into a lot of delicious troubles over the years. It had also gained me some unwanted attention, as well.

  Especially, from the hatin’ ass sisters that always seemed to find a r
eason to hate. I wondered, how could they want to whoop my ass simply because their men couldn't control their eyes?

  I didn't trip shit like that. I was all about my riches. That’s why I never got my heart broken by some worthless ass nigga. I mean, I respected a nigga for what he was worth, but they were all replaceable.

  A man turned my life around. He took me from being a high-priced hoe to molding me into a prolific hustler. He had been a beautiful mentor and an even better partner in bed, but his cleverness had become too transparent. Plain and simple I was tired of the bullshit. It’s like I was saved from one exploiter, only to be enslaved with another man’s selfish fantasy.

  That’s why even though, it was going to hurt to do it—Bobby had to go. I was meeting him tonight but I was plotting. Before long I would plot his death.

  Chapter Nine

  Fitting the Pieces

  ~Ice-Berg~

  Me and Nutz sat face to face with the most bread either one of us had ever seen in our young lives as the money machine clicked. My mental was everywhere before bro interrupted my daydreams.

  “Damn, nigga—we’re ghetto millionaires,” he exclaimed. “That’s a million and a half in a punk few months. Bro, that ese broad you fuckin’ is the truth. You always finding diamonds in the ruff. You need to lace me to where you met her, so I can go snatch me up one.” he laughed.

  I passed the blunt to him and stood to stretch. “Fam—some shit is better left unspoken. It’ll keep us all safe when certain secrets are honored as they’re meant to be.”

  He screwed his face up, “Since when do we keep secrets, bro? Nigga, we blood, and best friends. We don’t keep no mu’fuckin’—”