Who Shot Ya Box Set

by Renta

  ***

  ~Freedom~

  “Assata,” I whispered.

  I’d been out her ringing this doorbell for about all of thirty minutes. It was late—it was cold—and my heart had finally gotten the best of me. It has been almost a month since he showed up at my job impersonating Obama. I must know—why? Why did he do what he did? Why—did he love me? Trust me to keep his secret?

  “Free, fuck you leaning on my shit like you’re the doorbell tester woman for?” he demanded.

  Once the door opened, I couldn’t help it. In spite of the seriousness of the situation. I giggled at this king’s appearance. The mug on his face only tickled me even more.

  “What the fuck is so funny, Free?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. Obviously, he didn’t know that he was missing one sock, and he had caked up drool on the side of his mouth. His black ass musta been in a deep slumber. As my eyes took in the nature of his man portions or this creature—the slope of his chest—the roughness of his aura—the sharp lines of his face—and umm, the—the hardness of him that saluted me through his boxers.

  “I’m up here,” he interrupted my assessment.

  Embarrassed, I said, “Huh?”

  I assumed it was his turn to laugh because that’s exactly what he did. Blood rushed to my cheeks, yet I’m a grown woman, and if he felt comfortable enough to answer the door in his boxers, hell—who am I not to take notice?

  “Happy to see me, Assata?”

  “What do you want, Free, it’s almost three in the morning. You’re acting like just showin’ up to my spot announced is cool, but it’s not! What if I had company?”

  I don’t know why he said that, but for some reason, my mind overflowed with reasons of why I slapped him as hard as I could—the bank robbery—making me miss him so deeply—him-him—my heart—him—it all came down upon me. Fire ignited in his eyes as the animal inside him clawed its way to the surface. He reached out with the speed of light and tapped my chin with his fist—not with all his might. I could tell but just enough to let me know he believed if his woman stepped outta line, he’d remind her of her place. He grabbed a handful of my hair, snatched me into his lion’s den, and slammed the door with his foot. I didn’t notice the big gun until he dropped it to the floor and slammed me into the wall with so much force I lost my breath.

  “Fuck wrong with you, ma, why you putting yo hands on me?” he fumed.

  I got my breath back. “Fuck you, Assata, what’s wrong with me? Naw, nigga, what’s up with you, yo?” The big apple in me revealed its ugly face. “You fuckin’ come to my job and pull some John Dillinger shit and think I should be cool with it, huh?” My emotions refused to stay harnessed. Tears blurred my vision. “You profess to be so righteous, but you’re just like my brother!”

  That slipped, but Assata seemed to be more in tune with the storm that fell from my eyes. The animal in him retreated, and the king did the least expected thing I’d imagine, he began to lick my tears as they fell.

  Chapter Twenty

  Who Shot Ya

  ~Detective Winslet~

  3:30 a.m.

  I slipped out of the bed and eased my way to the living room in the dark. I went straight for my purse. Now, that I had the gun that killed Hunter. I could not only clear my name but take down one of the most dangerous men in the city, right now. His fingerprints were all over this gun. I’d hide it somewhere here, and when the time was right. I’d send the boys straight to it, but first, taking out my phone. I made sure that it recorded the whole conversation me and Goose had earlier with me saying he made me kill Hunter.

  This was just leverage just in case these fed boys tried to double cross. I’d play the victim in front of a jury and present the evidence I had. No jury in this world would convict a cop that had been held at gunpoint! At least that will be my story! As I searched for a perfect spot to stash the pistol, I wiped the barrel where I touched it, careful not to smudge Goose’s prints. Where could I stash this where it wouldn’t be found until I wanted it to be found? My eyes searched the darkened room, and as if some unseen force spoke to me. I headed for the old floor model tv that looked as if it hadn’t been moved in centuries.

  There was no reason for Goose to move it nor look behind it. So, I got down on my hands and knees and reached as far behind the outdated television as I could and wedged the pistol between it and the wall. Now that, that’s out the way, I retrieved my phone and made a call to another vital part of my plan. As soon as he answered—

  “What’s up, ma? Fuck you up at three in the morning on the phone?” Goose said from the darkness.

  ***

  ~Assata~

  I laid in the dimness of my room, and I watched as the shadows danced over the silhouettes of our tangled bodies. The drapes to my window were pulled open to allow the moon to watch over us, and I could tell from the light snores coming from shawty that I had put it down. She’d been out for the count for ‘bout an hour now, but my thoughts wouldn’t let me find the Sandman. It has been months since I’d rose from my coma, I still didn’t know who tried to whack me. I still didn’t know who murked Gusto’s bitch ass.

  “Who shot ya, bitch nigga? I want to find ‘em and fry their cabbage for robbing us of the showdown we was meant to have,” I whispered to the night as if he sucka ass nigga could give me the answers to the questions that plagued me, and as if the pussy could read my mind.

  Jazzy’s letter popped into my mind. “I need you to go to the mountain. Follow your heart!”—fuck was she—then it hit me! The mountain—the story of how Elijah Mohammad went to the mountains to pray—to find himself. Then, the reason I told her the story! Fuck, could it be? Am I overthinking shit? I slipped from underneath Free’s warm body. I went to the dresser that I stashed the letter in. Opening the top drawer, I lifted my folded boxers and pulled the letter out. Silently, I made my way to the living room. I turned on the lamp on the nightstand and began to read.

  I read and reread the missive about five times until I was sure I wasn’t trippin’—I’m not—I’m sure of it! My baby been callin’ me for this whole time, but my eyes have been blindfolded! I know I’m missing a lot, but I’m fa sho’ I’d find what I was searching fa when I found, Jazz—but fuck I’ma do that? My mind was in a million places, and in the middle of the tornado of thoughts, my horn vibrated on the table where I discarded it when I made it home. I walked over to it and picked it up without looking at the screen.

  “Hello, may I speak to, Assata Lamar?” I didn’t recognize her voice, but to call my government out means she gotta know me.

  “Yea, this he, who this?”

  “Um, this is Dr. Nicola, and we need you to get down to the hospital as soon as possible, something happened to your mother and—"

  That’s as far as she got before I Tom Brady the phone against the wall. It shattered into a million pieces just like my heart did when the words penetrated it. There was no need to listen to the rest or ask any questions. I knew she was gone—I could feel it! Niagara Falls exploded from my eyes at the same time, that an animalist sound clawed it’s way up my lungs until it burst out of my mouth. I fell to my knees not noticing Free stood before me naked as the day she came into this world. Her face was stained with confusion and fear as she took in the devastation around her.

  The phone in a million pieces, and a gangsta in agony—she did the only thing she knew to do, she rushed over to me, and wrapped me into her embrace. She wanted to absorb a niggaz pain and studied me. Our eyes connected in a cosmo of madness. My eyes, two oceans—hers, dryland. My soul tried to swim onto it, but the waters were too deep to wade through. So, I merely stopped trying and allowed myself to sink to the bottom of this emotional sea. I knew now that it was a possibility for a man to walk on water because my tears stained the floor, and I hadn’t sunk yet.

  “They—they took her from me, Free—my air—they—they took my reason to live, ma.” I found the only words I could formulate. “Why, though, why God let that
happen? Huh, why, Free?”

  Water filled her eyes as she shook her head like she was telling me no to something, and truthfully, she was. She was tellin’ me she didn’t know why. She just couldn’t seem to find the words to formulate that truth. Maybe God—or even the devil wanted to answer because not even ten seconds later, my picture window exploded, and a small canister flew into the room. It spun to a stop—Free stared at it, but I tackled her and covered her with my body. The flash was ultra-bright, but the gas that ensued fucked us both up. In seconds the house was filled with smoke. Vomit rushed up my throat and spilled over Free as she clawed at her throat, trying to get to her knees. I snatched her back down, gas was like heat—it rose!

  I remembered some advice an old school gave me while I was in TDC—” the main objective is not to panic, youngsta. Breathe out ya nose—slow as you can, and don’t panic. That gas is all mind.” I tried my best to get my breath, I used the little energy I had to pull Free towards the back. She was weak, but she crawled with me. Right as we got to the hallway, another gas grenade flew through the window. By now, I could breathe a little, and I wasn’t trying to fade that shit no more. We made it to the room, Free was actin’ like she was ‘bout to die, and shid, I didn’t blame her. That bidness was crucial, but this wasn’t the time for dying. Mustering all my strength, I pulled her to her feet.

  “Listen, Free—I need you to listen! I don’t know who these people are, but you can bet life on it that they’re here for blood. I need you to climb out this window and go through the backyard. It leads to some woods, but if you want to live, you, betta swallow your fear of the dark! Once you get there, run into the woods and hide until you see daylight. Once the sun is—"

  My spill was cut short by the sound of the front door caving in. Out of time, I pushed her toward the window. She followed instructions until she was halfway out, but the silly girl stopped and turned around.

  “Why can’t you come with me? Come with me, Assata, don’t let them kill you, baby,” she cried.

  I damn near punched her in the face. I kissed her hard and pushed her dumb ass out the window. Then I spun around, my intent was to make it to my closet where I kept my tools, but the door to the room flew off the hinges and two gas masked gunmen rushed in—fuck it. I turned towards the window, I was about to see if that shit they be doing in them movies was real. I made it four steps before something sharp wedge its self in my neck. Two more steps, I was a foot away from the window seal, but suddenly I was super tired. My legs got rubbery, and my energy spilled from me like water from a hole in a fish tank.

  I reached to the back of my neck and yanked out whatever the object was that rocked me to bed. I put it in front of my eyes, and to my surprise, it was a dart of some sort. I laughed out loud at the irony. These lil’ mu’fuckas real—it’s not some T.V. shit! As my vision faded to black, the only comfort I had was that whomever these mu’fuckas was, they wanted me alive, if not, they woulda sent bullets instead of a tranquilizer. I’d have a chance to murk they dumb ass for being so arrogant as to give the devil a nap instead of death. Somebody wanted me alive for a reason!

  To Be Continued…

  Who Shot Ya 3

  CONTINUES NOW!!

  Who Shot Ya 3

  Chapter One

  ~Pain~

  “Daddy, this silly ass nigga gave me his gun. Let me do him with his own shit—please?” Tessa whined like she’d climax at any moment from the anticipation of busting my head.

  The element of surprise was on their side, and it must have been written all over my face because Twisted stared at me with a knowing smirk as if he could read my mind. The shock of being caught with my pants down simmered, and like a computer; my mind registered my predicament. Discreetly, I analyzed my surroundings in search of an escape from the web I’d blindly walked right into. There was nothing but a few huge oak trees and a wide expanse of open country. If I’d tried to make a break for it, I’d only get whacked before I made it behind one of those trees. Not to mention before I’d taken two steps this snake bitch would have put two in my melon. Returning my gaze to Twisted, the first thing I noticed was the mini uzi he clutched at his side. When he got the drop on me the shit took me so fast I must not have noticed.

  Twisted looked demonic as he said, “What you think, homie? You rather die by the hands of the nigga that’s gonna erase your entire bloodline from the face of the earth or by the hands of the bitch that fucked you to your death? Literally!” he proposed as if either choice was better than the other. “Choose your poison, cuz,” he hissed, inching the uzi closer to his face then pulling the lever back ensuring that the first round was ready to spit.

  Something was off about homie—something deep, something mental. I watched him close his eyes as if he was about to pray. He used the short barrel of the compact gun to scratch his temple as he mumbled to himself. Even though I couldn’t decipher what he was saying, I noticed the bottom parts of his eyelids were pink and his nose slightly leaked a trail of red tainted liquid. A light went off in my head, homie was as high as an astronaut. Venom bled into my pupils as my eyes studied the dope fiend, ass nigga.

  At that moment, I realized that helplessness was one of the worst feelings a man that’s about something can feel, yet, instead of dwelling on the shit I couldn’t change, I sucked in as much saliva as I could and spit in the bitch ass nigga direction.

  “Fuck you, pussy boy!” I seethed. “What you think I’ma beg you not to get your hands dirty?”

  Adrenaline coursed through my veins like someone injected them with actual flames. Sweat beaded on my flesh as I growled my next words— “They say all dawgs go to Heaven, nigga. I’m ready for the family reunion! Let’s get it done, pussy!”

  The gangsta in me took prestige over the fear of death. Without warning, I turned my back to the sucka as a sign of disrespect. I’d rather die by the hands of a snake bitch that set me up, at least my dawgs would learn the lesson that the OG Cash and Nene Capri tried to teach in his series ‘Trust No Bitch’. Once I was face to face with Tessa’s serpent ass, she tried to mask the surprise and fear of my gangsterisms, but just as any other predator, I sensed it. A shift in the atmosphere alerted me to the fact that Twisted had stepped closer.

  “Whoa, lil’ buddy, I advise you to be easy on all them sudden movements; my fingers damn near applied to much pressure on this trigger.” He snickered from right behind me confirming my suspicions.

  Without acknowledging the faggot, I allowed my vision to focus on the only female that’s ever pulled the wool over my eyes. As our eyes danced, flashbacks of our every encounter leading up to this point flashed in my mental. Each scene that played caused my eyes to blink rapidly. Every time I fucked her! The moment she set the stage by acting as if she wanted to be exclusive. The very first night I stepped to her! It was all a part of their play, they lured me to this exact moment; the ultimate deception.

  As I reflected, through my peripheral, I observed the lil’ ese bitch that drove me to my doom circling us like a vulture. At that moment I figured if I was gonna live to chase another bag, I needed to make my next move my best move!

  “Damn, bitch, you one of the most clueless females I’ve ever met.” I confused the moment.

  Like a lunatic I stepped right up to the tool she aimed in my face. Once the barrel kissed my forehead, I smiled wickedly. “You’re in cahoots with the same nigga that murked your flesh and blood—Mena, because she found out that he’s the one behind Lil’ Joe’s murder.”

  Confliction showed on her face, revealing that I’d touched a tender spot, or at least added substance to what she already felt. Small beads of sweat formed on her nose. Hope sparked within me, my gut was right. I figured that Tessa’s emotions were my greatest escape plan. Though every woman master’s manipulation in one form or another, the one thing that couldn’t be hidden efficiently is their heart and emotions. I counted on that fact at that moment, shit was crucial.

  Tessa slyly glanced over my shoulder b
efore returning her eyes to me and saying, “Nigga, miss me with the head games. You’re not gonna weasel yourself outta this so save it, playboy!”

  Laughter erupted from deep within. It was a nervous reaction, but to inquiring minds, it was a sign I didn’t give a fuck. Dark clouds rolled in front of the sun, briefly giving the scenery a grayish tint.

  I looked Tessa directly in the eyes. “Tessa, you’re a smart broad, think about it. Remember that time you couldn’t get in touch with this nigga for a week?”

  I watched as she studied me to see where I was going. Curiosity kills more than cats and as the memory dawned on her, her facial expression revealed it. Twisted must have noticed it as well because before I could continue my spill, the impact of the steel contacting with the back of my head dropped me to one knee. Blood instantly poured from the gash as I tried my damnest to get my equilibrium back in check. Using my right hand, I reached behind my head to assess the damage, to my surprise, the blood flow wasn’t heavy and the cut was small. My vision cleared just enough that I could focus on Tessa. Twisted whispered evilly through clenched teeth as skepticism played on Tessa’s face.

  “Bitch ass nigga, you’re gonna die for your sins. That nigga Joe was my loc and for a drop of his blood I’ma fill a tub with yours!”

  I could feel the ill intent dripping from each word as Tessa’s eyes flicked back and forth between me and him. I could feel that she was wrestling between what she’d already believed, and her want to believe in her dude. Nervousness made her handshake; I could tell she was standing at the edge of indecision. All it would take was a bump to push her over the edge. The Hispanic girl appeared behind her. Through blurred vision I watched her wrap her arms around Tessa’s waist as if that was the most natural thing between them. She placed her face in the crook of Tessa’s neck and intricately ran her tongue up her flesh until her lips reached her right ear.