by De'Kari
Voorheeze walked in front of Monique and the children escorting them to their seats in the front row. He and Monique had already talked and gone over the course of action if anything was to jump off. If anybody thought they were going to do something, he had something for that ass. He wished a mothafucka would bust a move. Voorheeze would put anybody down who showed the least bit of disrespect.
As they walked down the aisle he thought of his grandma and her death. She was buried at the same cemetery. Involuntarily his hand moved towards one of the two Dragoons that rested inside his double shoulder rig. When they made it to the front row Voorheeze stepped to the left allowing her eight-year-old son, Titas’ and her nine-year-old, Na’Shay to take their seats.
And he stood with his left hand covering his right wrist down in front of him. Voorheeze scanned the entire grounds taking it all in. When his eyes came to rest on a group of police officers who were gathered in the back off to the side, he clenched his fist and jaw! If it wasn’t for the children and Ms. Veronica being present, he would’ve opened up and let missiles fly at the faggot ass cops. Even though they were not the Milpitas Police Department, the officers responsible for T’Rida death, to Voorheeze they were all the same, “A Pig was a Pig” straight the fuck up!
He leaned forward and placed a kiss on Monique’s cheek, “I’m right here lil sis, right here.”
She nodded her head up and down in response as tears cascaded down her chocolate cheeks. Next, he leaned down and gave Ms. Veronica a hug and whispered “thank you” in her ears. Ms. Veronica was Monique’s mother, who he thought didn’t care much for T’Rida in the first place. She was there, Voorheeze assumed, to be a source of strength for her daughter who was going through it.
What Voorheeze couldn’t have known, hell T’Rida himself hadn’t even known, was the fact that Ms. Veronica did love T’Rida. He had been with her daughter since they were in junior high school. She loved the way he treated her. Ms. Veronica was just hurt and disappointed in the lifestyle that T’Rida had chosen to live. All of his younger years had been spent in and out of jail. She just wanted the little skinny boy to make something of himself. As Voorheeze turned away, he didn’t see the tear that slid down her face. But she saw the pain and hurt that was scrawled all across his face.
Leonard “Tommy Gunz” Johnson was an entirely different story. He leaned up against his black and red Aston Martin with a bottle of Patron Platinum in one hand and a blunt in the other. He had the jacket to his silk Armani suit in the driver’s seat of the car so his double shoulder rig that held twin 44 Desert Eagles were open for any and everybody to see. He also had a Glock 41 in his waistline.
If for some reason you missed the bottle of alcohol, the smell of purple Kush or the three cannon’s, the look on Gunz face spoke volumes without making a sound, “Leave me the fuck alone”. A blind man could see the warning. Big Roc and A.J. stood to his immediate right and left, even though their weapons were completely concealed, they too were strapped for war.
DeeDee and DJ were leaning up against DJ’s black and red Daytona with identical looks on their faces. Between the two vehicles stood twenty war-tested, pistol totting, ex-convicts all wearing R.I.P. T’Rida shirts. They looked like twenty niggaz you would want to leave alone. Especially since the R.I.P. on the T-shirts didn’t stand for rest in peace. The shirts read “REVENGE IS PROMISED!!!” The exclamation marks were actually 7.62 bullets.
Tupac’s “I Aint Mad at You” was playing on the Bose speakers of the Aston Martin and as Pac rapped Gunz heart cried. No-one besides Monique was taking the shit hard as Gunz.
For Gunz, it wasn’t the loss of T’Rida as an individual that was fucking with him, it was the loss itself. It seemed that all Gunz knew was loss and heart ache. Everybody Gunz had ever loved had died or was murdered. Gunz literally didn’t have anyone but his Neva Die family. And he thought he and his Family would grow old together. But the faggott ass police stole his brother. Reality smacked him right in the face! They were not invincible! So, fuck it!
Gunz decided that day in Milpitas when they pulled over and heard T’Rida die, that he would take them before they took him! These thoughts went through Gunz’ mind as he glared at the rookie cop who kept looking over in his direction. Gunz took a long slow drag on the blunt, then took a swig of the Patron before he blew his smoke out. The whole time he was glaring at the rookie like he’d raped his mother.
“Fuck is you looking at pussy boy?” The pure venom in which Gunz spit the question out should’ve told the rookie to leave well enough alone, but not Officer Hedgecock. Officer Hedgecock was determined to make a name for himself inside of the department.
“Ex-Excuse me, sir?” You could hear the fear in Hedgecock’s voice.
“You heard me, mothafucka! I said what da fuck yo bitch ass over there looking at?” Gunz could smell the fear coming off the rookie like a shark smells blood and he wasn’t going to let up, not today!
“Umm. Sir, do you have a license for those firearms that you are carrying?” Officer Hedgecock didn’t want a confrontation with the young thug but the captain was nearby and Hedgecock wanted to impress him.
He started walking towards the group. Officer Hedgecock repeated his question “do you have a license for those fire arms that you are carrying?”
Gunz looked at the white boy like he just saw him suck on a log of shit. “I’m carrying them aint I?”
“Sir I’m going to have to ask you to put your hands in the air!” Officer Hedgecock told Gunz as he brought his hand to rest on the top of his service weapon.
That was the wrong thing to do at that moment.
**** N. D. ****
When Captain Sweeney looked over and saw his dumb ass rookie looking over at Leonard Johnson and the group that was with him, he knew there was going to be a problem. After nearly 30 years on the force, he’s both seen and done it all. Enough that he could spot a problem before it arose.
Personally, he liked the rookie. Hedgecock was eager to prove himself worthy, he loved his job and was a stickler for detail. The problem was, he was hands down a complete moron! He didn’t possess the ability to use common sense. Because of this, the young rookie had already been at the center of quite a few shit storms and he hasn’t even been on the force for a year.
Sweeney began to make his way over to Hedgecock. He wanted to stop him before he did something stupid, but it was too late. Hedgecock had already said something to Leonard.
Capt. Sweeney told Lieutenants Urena and Boots to follow him. There were about twenty-five San Mateo County Sheriff Deputies that attended the funeral. If needed, he could make a call and have an additional thirty or so on their way. If they locked down the Maguire Facility, that would be another twenty at his disposal. That was somewhere around seventy-five to eighty Sheriff Deputies.
Sweeney knew that there was well over two hundred armed and deadly killers at the funeral. Even a fool wouldn’t buck against those odds. It didn’t matter that they were the law. These were not the type of people that would run from the law. They killed the law and anybody else that they wanted. Plus, there was a shit load of media around. The last thing that his department needed was more bad publicity. With all the complaints of police brutality and corruption, the department had a bad image in the eye of the public. He didn’t need anything adding fuel to the already raging fire.
As Sweeney was getting closer to the group, he saw Hedgecock put his hand on the butt of his service weapon. He knew all hell was about to break loose.
Sweeney opened his mouth to tell the fucking moron to stand down but before he could utter a word, so many guns were pointed at Hedgecock that Sweeney instantly feared for the rookie’s life.
“Fuck you gone do Cracker?” DeeDee spit out as fire burned inside his pupils.
Staring from the wrong end of the long Desert Eagle, Officer Hedgecock really thought that he was looking in the eyes of the Devil himself. He had neva seen so many guns drawn so fast, all at the same time in hi
s life. To make it even worse, all the guns were pointed at him.
“Hey! Hey! Hey! Fellas whoa whoa!” Captain Sweeney cautiously walked through the group trying to defuse the situation.
“Fellas! We don’t need to do this. Not right here, in front of all of these cameras!” Sweeney thought mentioning the cameras would detour them.
“Nobody asked yo fucking ass for yo advice!” The captain bars on Sweeney’s collar didn’t mean shit to DeeDee. To him a pig was a pig and DeeDee just wanted a reason.
“Put the guns down!” Gunz spoke low but with authority. He walked up to Hedgecock getting directly in his face. He was so close to that when he spoke Hedgecock could feel Gunz breath on his face.
“Let me tell you something, bitch, I hate cops, so I hate you! This is my fucking Family right here!” He turned motioning to all the killaz surrounding them. “Now we’re trynna say goodbye to our brotha and you wanna bring yo disrespectful ass over here and fuck with me. I should knock yo bitch ass down. I don’t give a fuck bout them cameras. Understand the only reason yo bitch ass aint laid out right now is on the strength of yo Captain and out of respect for my brotha. But if you don’t get yo bitch ass out of here and let me say goodbye to my brotha, yo brotha’s gone be saying goodbye to you.”
Hedgecock was so scared he didn’t know what to do. He was embarrassed to be talked to like that by a common thug especially in front of the Captain! But he was too scared to even consider saying something back to Gunz. From the look in all their eyes Hedgecock knew that if he said or did anything besides leave the cemetery, he would lose his life.
When Gunz turned away from Hedgecock he made eye contact with Capt. Sweeney and gave him a head nod in acknowledgment. Lieutenant Boots and Urena stood by ready for action during the entire exchange. Although they knew that the odds were very much against them, they were trained and seasoned vets ready for combat. They’ve been through the fire numerous times and was ready to go through it again if need be!
Chapter II
(East Palo Alto)
The steam that was coming off of Gunz could easily be seen if someone was there to look at him, Rarely did Gunz find himself in a fit of rage. He was seething.
In his heart, the fact was that he couldn’t deal with the loss of his brother. The disrespect of the fuckin white boy was stuck in his mind. He couldn’t believe that mothafucka had the nerve to step to him.
In his mind, Gunz was following Officer Hedgecock so that he could teach him a lesson about stepping to a mothafucka like him. As he took a hit off the blunt he was smoking, his head nodded to the sounds of C-Bo “Til My Casket Drops.” The more he listened to the song talk about killing cops, the greater his rage became. He didn’t realize that he was angry at the fact that he didn’t know how to process T’Rida’s death.
The Granddaddy Purple wasn’t helping the situation any. He was a few cars back from Officer Hedgecock. Gunz mind was set, the moment this son of a bitch stopped he was going to air his mothafuck’n ass out.
The sound of his phone ringing came over the speakers. Without looking at the display on the ten-inch screen he pressed the button on the steering wheel to answer the call.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah? Oh, excuse me! I must have the wrong number, because that is not how the man I love answers the phone when I call.” Natasia’s voice was like an instant warm front over his ice-covered heart.
To him even the way she said that sounded sweet. Catching himself he said, “Sorry about that Babe. I didn’t look to see who was calling.”
“What’s up with you Beautiful?” Even though he tried to mask it, she could hear the anger in his voice.
“I was just calling to check on you. To see how things went today. Babe, I’m sorry I couldn’t come back and be there for you.” She used her soft, innocent voice.
“It’s okay Babe. How’s things going out there?” Natasia could hear the strain in his voice. He was trying to change the subject to avoid dealing with the issue, but she wasn’t letting him off that easy.
“So, since when do we do that?” She asked.
“Watcha mean, Babe?”
“Leonard, no matter what is going on. You and I have neva kept our feelings from one another. Nor do we just sweep things under the rug and ignore them. Babe, if I am your better half, you have to trust me enough to let me in, even when you don’t want anyone in”.
The more that he listened to Natasia talk, the further he came out of that dark place he had gone. His gangsta still screamed “Murda” but reason screamed “A Future”. She didn’t know it, but he had plans to propose to her the moment he gets back to her.
“Leonard!” She called into the phone bringing his attention back to the conversation.
“Huh? Oh, Babe excuse me I was paying attention to the cop behind me.” He expressed, lying to her.
“You’re right though, Babe, it’s just right now I have to process all of this before I can even begin to talk about it.”
Hedgecock’s blinker came on as he turned right onto Kavanaugh Street. Gunz slowed down so he wouldn’t be so close behind him.
“I promise you Babe, once I process things, we’ll discuss it, okay?”
“Okay Babe!” She responded feeling that she’d won.
“I’ll call you in the morning.”
“I heard that, I’ll call you in an hour and your butt better be home.” She joked but was serious.
“Love you Babe.”
“Love you, too.”
Then he heard Natasia’s voice talking to him inside his head and his heart, begging him not to do this. He wasn’t that man any more. The more he wanted to get out of the car, the louder he could hear her voice.
“Fuck!” He mumbled as he dropped the gun back on his lap. Then he pulled off.
Hedgecock thought he was going to have a heart attack. The moment his eyes saw the Aston Martin creeping past his house. His service weapon was under the driver’s seat locked in the car. He couldn’t see past the tinted windows, so he didn’t know who the driver was. Being that it looked like the exact same car from earlier, he had an idea.
He was frozen still with fear, looking like a deer in the headlights. As the car drove past he didn’t’ know if he was just being paranoid or if he should be saying a silent prayer of thanks.
When he was finally able to move, his damp pants leg pissed him off past the point of prayer. Ego bruised and feeling ashamed, he made his way into the house.
**** N. D. ****
Everything about the brothers were completely opposite. They were indeed blood brothers but still the two couldn’t be more different. Voorheeze was a people person. He was outgoing, yet calculative and analytical, but when called for he was ferocious and deadly. But, for the most part he was a gentle giant. Clark on the other hand was calm and quiet. Yet, he was quick-tempered and ill-mannered.
Voorheeze would do his best to avoid violence as much as possible. Whereas, Clarkola was always ready to pop off! Clark was the eldest and he was a true thug. He was a street nigga through and through. You would usually find him in some designer jeans with a white tee and some top of line sneakers.
Voorheeze was a true gangsta, his designer suits and Mauri gators would attest to that.
Because of his temper and antics, the entire city knew about the shit Clark had done. He was a Hot Boy who stayed blazin his gun, but if the truth was revealed, Voorheeze had a body count that would make Ted Bundy shiver. He just didn’t advertise his shit. He didn’t see the need in all that “ra ra” shit. Too many niggaz went down behind niggaz running their mouth. But a nigga couldn’t run his mouth, if he didn’t know shit! So Voorheeze didn’t do shit for show.
Their little sister was a by-product of both of them. French Tip was hot and ready like her oldest brother, analytical and calculating like her younger brother. Though she had a temper like Clark she would hold her emotions in check like Voorheeze until the time came for her to be pernicious. She may not have had as many bodies
as Voorheeze but hands down she was the most lethal. If the Boogey Man was real, he’d be scared of her.
Only two women ever could be classified as more dangerous or deadlier than French Tip. The first was Anne whom some called Chiba. She was a young lady the late T’Rida himself had brung into the folds of the Family. She was a quick study and progressed quickly. T’Rida saw her potential and hooked her up with French Tip and Cantelope. She would become a member of the infamous She-Wolves. After months of teaching and training by Cantelope and French Tip, Anne became something that both women were proud of.
Anne’s murder game was second to none; living that is! The shit legends and hood myths were made of. Which brings up the second person deadlier than French Tip or even Anne for that matter, the “Black Widow”. She was an older Mexican chick that ran with a team of killaz out of Redwood City. They were murder for hire. Their loyalty was only to each other and the contract they were hired for. They were good, they were efficient, but they weren’t cheap
Back, before the war in East Palo Alto, when niggaz still traveled to Lil Mexico to buy their dope, her team put it down. They were the deadliest team around.
The Black Widow was the scariest of them all. She took the jobs no one else wanted and she touched people that were supposed to be untouchable. The thing is, it didn’t matter the level of security a person had. If the Black Widow was hired, you were going to die.
“I ain’t heard from you since the funeral big brah. You been alright?” French Tip asked Voorheeze with genuine concern in her voice.
“I ain’t gone even lie to you sis, this shit got me fucked up.” The pain in Voorheeze voice spoke volumes.
“It’s like me, ‘Rida and Gunz were the perfect ingredients to this shit. Not too much this, not too much that but the perfect combination! Now without ‘Rida it just doesn’t feel the same. Like me and Gunz don’t fit.” She didn’t interrupt him. She knew he needed to get it off his chest.