Who Shot Ya Box Set

by Renta

  He rushed over and hit President Reagan in the face with the butt of his gun, damn near knocking his mask off. He crumbled to the floor in heap of pain. Obama turned his eyes to the beautiful woman, confusion—sympathy—craziness played in his stare. Their eyes met in collision of communication. Fear and inquisition in hers—indecisiveness, and apology in his. Obama grabbed her by her arm, he led her to a chair and without words, forced her to sit. She never took her eyes off of him, yet not testing his patience either.

  “One minute-thirty seconds we’re out of here,” Obama screamed.

  He glanced to the second security guard sweating his life out, as he tried not to take any pressure off the bomb. It was identical to the one his partner was holding outside the bank. The beautiful woman still had her eyes on Obama, but her mind was everywhere. Why weren’t they taking the money? Why was it so many of them? Why weren’t they taking the money? It was as if they barged in with bombs and machine guns only to walk back and forth.

  “White House—White House—time, fellas—time,” Obama screamed into a handheld radio.

  It was as if a dream forced its way into reality as vice presidents stormed the small establishment.

  “Let’s move—move,” someone yelled, just as quick as they came, they disappeared.

  Somehow, they knew about the back door that only employees knew about. It led to a back alley and onto the next street over.

  Only two presidents were left—Hoover and Roosevelt. “Y’all did good, but sadly, we can’t leave behind any witnesses,” Roosevelt said.

  Fear was plausible in the atmosphere—all eyes turned to the machine gun-toting president.

  “Bu-but, we haven’t seen your faces—we can’t identify you,” a hysterical woman cried. “Ple—please,” she begged.

  There was no room for mistakes. Aiming the assault rifle at the group of people, he let loose a volley of fire, bodies jerked and red splashed everywhere!

  ***

  Laid in a tangled mess, the inhabitants of the armored truck moaned as they tried to disentangle themselves. Smoke rose from the engine, but the worst damage was done on the interior. Bob, the driver was killed on impact. Since he was riding without his seatbelt, the impact of the crash threw his body against the armored windshield. His vertex smashed into the walls of glass, it shattered his vertebrae and neck in less than three seconds. Joey was still breathing—barely! He stood ten feet away, as twelve bikers awaited their leader’s signal. They didn’t have to wait long, he pulled out his phone and punched in a unique sequence of numbers.

  A moment later, a barely audible beeping noise could be heard as the red light on the small device, attached to the back of the truck blew the doors off. A head signal was all that was needed for the hungry wolves to descend on the paradise that was no doubt awaiting them in the truck. The rider in red leather was the first to reach it. He was hungry and inattentive, as he rushed in and that’s when hell broke loose. A high-powered shotgun exploded in what seemed like slow motion, the red-clad rider flew backward, dead on arrival! It took a few seconds before the thirst for blood registered to the remaining eleven.

  Once it did, hell had no fury for the melody of a gangsta’s anger. Street sweepers spoke that pipe talk until they were empty. They were more cautious, but knowing they were pressed for time, they went for what they knew. As expected, everything in the truck was DOA—just like the different presidents on the front of the different denominations of bills floating in the air.

  “We got less than twenty minutes to clear this bitch out before we’re surrounded by them alphabets. Let’s work, fam,” Goose screamed from behind his grey helmet.

  “Almost there, God—let me make it out of this and I’m hanging up my guns—I swear!”

  ***

  Captain Flemington stood in the middle of the bank and scratched his head, he just couldn’t figure it out. Why would someone go through all this just to escape through the back door? He had to smile at how they found the two security guards. They had the bomb squad on the scene and all—and for what? For two fucking alarm clocks made to look like explosive devices. When the piece of shit detonated, everyone hit the ground, only to be stunned by mere explosive vibration. To make the situation even more comical, they found the tellers and bank manager leaking red—red paint that is. The sons-of-bitches held the bank up with paintball guns and alarm clocks—classical!

  “Captain—cap—it’s a set-up—it’s a fucking faux! They’re going for the truck,” The new lead detective screamed, just as the Fed boys showed up.

  “It’s a fucking diversion!”

  ***

  “Let’s go fam—it’s time—it’s time, Goose screamed, heading for his bike.

  The jeep was miles down the road watching for the first sight of the boys in blue. Everyone rushed for their bikes and just as the getaway seemed clean, and in their grasp, a lone gunshot screamed from behind the truck. Goose turned just in time, to witness a helmet wearing biker drop the bags of money and pause in an upright position before he crumbled to his knees. His heart broke as he watched the biker pull his helmet off his head. As bullets flew in the direction of the opposition. Lil’ Jackie rushed over to the lil’ nigga that the hood raised. Lil’ Jackie dropped to his knees and took his head into his lap, while Tomorrow stared at him with blood exuding from his lips. He coughed as a spray of blood shot up into the air.

  “Th—they—got—me—Ja—Jack!” Lil’ Jackie’s eyes mist over.

  “Hold up, lil’ homie—we gonna get you out of here—just—hold on, fam.”

  “Te—tell Sa—Satta, I—I—tell—I—"

  One last deep breath and Tomorrow’s soul escaped from his body. Goose rushed over to them and stood behind Lil’ Jackie. Instant pain rushed through his heart, but self-preservation was in his veins, all the while, Lil’ Jackie shook Tomorrow—bending at the waist, he did CPR—shook him again.

  “Get up nigga—get up!”

  “Say, fam, we got to go—now, Lil’ Jack! You know the rules fam, we can’t do shit for homie. Not even a funeral if we cased up,” Goose said as he glanced from the road back to Jackie.

  Naw, Goo—we can’t just leave him like this—we can’t, fam!” Lil Jackie’s voice cracked.

  The radio sparked to life,

  “Twelve on the radar fam—we gotta burn. Clear out—them people on our heels!”

  Goose eyes turned back as Lil’ Jackie continued to reanimate, fam. Putting the burna to his dome, he tried one last time—

  “Fam let’s burn,” Goose exclaimed.

  The roar of motorcycles disturbed the peace as Lil’ Jackie shook his head no—

  “Help me get him up, bruh—he can make it,” he said without turning his head.

  Goose nodded in affirmation. “Tell lil’ homie we’ll mourn him til’ we join y’all.”

  Boom—boom—boom— Three shots rocked Lil’ Jackie as Goose dashed to his bike and the squad rode off into the sun.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Paradise

  ~Twisted~

  A Week Later

  My cell phone rang and disturbed my beast rest. I reached over the naked bitch I been caked up with the for the past five nights and snatched my shit off the nightstand.

  “What’s the bidno, big homie?”

  “Nigga, fuck you been, you ain’t ‘bout this money no more or what? I know that shit that happened to Lil’ Joe got ya’ head gone, but niggaz die every day. We gonna get them boys who did, bruh in, but first, let’s get to this mula. We can’t go to war broke, fam,” the voice on the other end proclaimed.

  “Maaann—sho you right—I just been going through it. You know, Joe, was my hip, homie—that did some sick shit to me,” Twisted professed.

  A pause could be heard on the other end of the line.

  “Dig, Twist, I raised you two boys from lil’ locs to YG’s. I’m just as heated as you but crying ain’t gonna bring fam back. We gotta ball fa Lil’ Joe—he wouldn’t want it no other way! Get up
out that funk, lil homie, and meet me at the spot, so I can show you how to celebrate the dead. On Hoova we gonna sign it in blue for bruh—but we can’t avenge him if our head uptight and our bread ain’t right.”

  His words marinated into the thick fog I allowed myself to be sucked into. I glanced over at lil’ mama that was asleep next to me. She was bad with a capital ‘B’, she’d always wanted to give me the kitty, I just respected the house cause she belonged to a dear nigga.

  “I’ll be there in an hour, homie,” Twisted stated.

  “One,” he replied then disconnected.

  As I slapped shorty on her bare ass cheeks, I laughed at how only one eye rolled open. Mena stared back at me as if I’d interrupted the best sleep she’s ever had.

  “Time to go, boo—I got moves to make,” I told her, as I rolled out the bed.

  The stench of sex and something fouler aroused my senses—frustration ate at me.

  “Bitch, I said get the fuck up—it’s time to roll.”

  She had the audacity to stare at me with that one eye like I was nothing more than a pest. I snatched the tool off the table, aimed, and squeeze two shots into her frame. The girl was tough—she didn’t make a sound. The bullets puncture her flesh with a popping sound, rigor mortis was already taking its toll. Mena’s been dead for five days. It took me a little bit, but I put a few of the pieces of the puzzle together. It was no reason Joe was ‘pose to be in Concrete City.

  The ‘why was he there’ played into my mind for days before it dawned on me that there was only one mu’fucka that could answer that question, Mena! I hit her up under the pretense of taking her away from the madness for a little bit, she went for it. The slut probably thought I’d finally come to my senses. Yet, my mind was on the fact, that if a bitch was really grieving as deeply as she seemed at the hospital. Why would she be so quick to jump on the next niggaz pimp stick? Let alone someone that would bring thoughts of her deceased man?

  I got her out here at my duck off in the country and from there I started my investigation. I had to shoot the silly broad in both of her knees before she divulged the shock of my life! Joe was crossed by his own, fam! I smoked lil’ mama. One to the dome—two to the heart. That was the first night—the other four, I sodomized and fucked her to death! I see why them morticians be humping the dead—ain’t no pussy tighter than rigor mortis pussy!

  ***

  ~Agent Harrison~

  I’d been grilling Detective Winslet for six hours straight! She was either the best liar there was or she was telling the truth and my instincts were sending false alarms.

  “You say when you and Detective Hunter got to the bank, there was an exchange of gunfire between him and the accused? I stood with those ballistics techs for hours. The direction of the bullet that pierced the window is consistent with the flesh wound, but the killing shot had to come from a different angle. I—”

  “What exactly are you trying to say, agent, that I killed my own partner? Make sense of why I would in the middle of a bank heist?”

  “Faux bank heist,” he interrupted.

  “Yes, what the fuck ever. The point is—why would I kill a man that taught me all I now? First of all, maybe he had something to do with the set-up. How else would you explain a suspended detective in active duty? You’re—”

  “Maybe, both of you were part of it, and you decided to become rapacious at the last minute—maybe—"

  “That’s enough, Agent Harrison, you are violating my clients Fifth Amendment. She has nothing else to say. Now, if you’re not charging her with any crime, I demand she be released immediately!” A sharp dressed Jewish man bombarded my investigation.

  I was about to give this asshole a piece of my mind when the director of the bureau walked in.

  “Do we have just cause to hold her?” he questioned.

  I paused with a frustrated look on my face. She was guilty of something, I could feel it.

  “No Sir, but—”

  “No, buts, Agent—cut her loose to her attorney and meet me in my office.”

  He turned to walk away, but not before informing Winslet she would be hearing from us.

  ***

  ~Assata~

  I ended the call frustrated. It was my tenth time calling Freedom to no avail. I wondered for the hundredth time if I shoulda whacked her. It ain’t like she can identify me, but, she knew it was me in the Obama mask. I felt it, it had been a long week—after we divided up the loot, everybody was left with a nice chunk. The dope-fiends we hired, they just wanted payment in work, so it worked out in everybody’s favor. The only thing I’d forever regret was the death of my lil’ manz, Tomorrow. Lil dawg was meant for something way grander than the nap he took.

  My eyes watered with just the thought of the loss, gangstas cry too. It’s too late for regrets, though. I gotta push on to the next phase of my life. I’m through wit’ the game—it’s ova! I made a vow, I planned to stand on it, and my new hustle was fa sho money. I will also spend up an imports and exports distribution for my homies, so they can broaden their horizons. I knew what would be transported, but any creature that’s molded from the wild habitat would always be wild, even if the beast is tamed on the inside. It’s like a killer becoming a lawyer, just because he changed his suit doesn’t take away the fact, he’s got blood on his hands.

  I tossed the phone on the passenger seat, pulled up in the apartment complex with my head on the swivel. This was my first time coming to her spot. I didn’t know these boys over here, so I was strapped like a seatbelt. I retrieved my horn, highlighted her mathematics, and await her sweetness to fill my ear.

  “Heyyy, baby! Where you at?”

  “Come outside, ma—”

  “Huh—oh—you’re here?” I heard the clicks in my ear.

  Twenty minutes later, she peeked her head outside her apartment. She used her pointer finger, beckoning me to Heaven. I slid out of my SS, with the tool on display, just in case niggaz was lurkin’. I fucks with lady, but ain’t no tellin’ what typa bidness a female got planned for a cat, who moved blindly to her wickedness. Soon as I got up on sweet lady, she opened the door in a short t-shirt, and a pink thong, her nipples protruded like she’d been thinking ‘bout my lips wrapping around them. I glanced down at her bare feet—small—pedicured—white tips. My lower muscles rose to the occasion.

  “You gonna stand there and stare at what’s already yours? Or come in before all these thirsty ass niggaz see what I’ve kept secret for you?” she smiled seductively.

  She grabbed my hand and led me in with a soft kiss. The décor was immaculate in earth tones. Forest greens and tree bark brown. The hardwood floors shined as if they’d been freshly waxed—shit nice.

  “Would you like something to drink—water—soda? Maybe something a little stiffer?” She asked on her way to the kitchen.

  I grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her back to me.

  “If I wanted to drink, I’d stayed at my own spot. I got something taboo in mind.”

  “Taboo—what might you have in mind handsome?” she questioned.

  I flash her my diamond smile before lifting the shirt over her head and rolling her chocolate nipples between my thumb and forefingers.

  “What ‘bout some real freaky shit on the first date?” I suggested.

  ***

  ~Jazzy~

  The breeze blew softly off the Pacific, as I strolled down the shore. Foamy waves rolled over my feet, as I gazed out at the horizon, so much played within the walls of my mind. My future, my past, but more importantly, Assata. I missed him so much. It was two weeks to my wedding day and I didn’t feel like a woman about to say, ‘I do’ to the man of my dreams. I felt as if I was a prisoner about to pledge forever to a man who loves me fatally, but I would never love him with my heart. A girl could always convince her mind to love a man, but her heart couldn’t be deceived. While a man found love through his dick-head and vision.

  A woman found it through her heart and soul. The lesser bitch fo
und it through a man fucking her right. Assata held my heart. I’d thought about going to him on multiple occasions, but what would be the use in running to only have it bathe in blood? Tessa kept me informed on all the happenings back home and it broke my spirit to know Assata had someone new. It killed me to know I’d hurt him so deeply, and if he only knew, I’d spend the rest of my life making up for it. As I bent down to pick up a grey and white seashell, I studied its beauty. For a moment, I fell in love with a fairytale as I imagined tossing it as far as I could into the ocean and somehow Assata found it, knowing it was sent from me.

  ***

  ~Assata~

  I bent lady over the couch and used my thickness to slide between her cheeks. She moaned deep—hungrily, as I growled primally like a savage! My dick throbbed—as soon as the head submerged, and she screamed my name. I drove in fast and hard, gripping her waist; I looked down to see her juices saturating me. Then out of nowhere—my mind started to play tricks on me. Jazzy—she was missing me—willing me to her—fuck?

  ***

  ~Jazzy~

  I sat down in the sand and looked at how the fading sun seemed to dip into the water, as my heart cried for him. I wondered if he felt me. I pulled my knees to my chest, trying to find where the orange and yellow sky ended, and where the ocean began. There was nothing more peaceful than the view of the sun setting over the ocean. It was what dreams were made of. The typa thing a girl shared with the man she loved. The wind was soft, as it carried the scent of the water to me. I allowed my spirit to venture across the ocean, over rough terrain, somewhere in Dallas, Fort. Worth, to a special someone I’d give my last breath for. I whispered to the wind, I love you, Assata. You’ll never know how much cause even I couldn’t explain it.