by Keon Smith
“Why don’t you tell her yourself, you fat fuck?” Montega spat as he gripped the small knife from his pocket and stabbed Shug in the right eye.
“Ahhhhhrrrrrggggghhhhh!” Shug shouted in pain. Blood squirted from the wound like a water gun. Shug lost his grip on Montega.
“Oh yeah,” Montega said. “It will definitely be a cold day in hell… so dress warm.” He slipped out of Shug’s grasp. With every bit of strength he had left, Montega pushed Shug into the railing, causing it to snap. Shug fell six-stories down and splattered on the concrete below like a water balloon.
Montega, out of breath, bruised, beaten, and battered but not defeated, looked down at the dead body in disbelief, thinking, I might not be the best fighter, nor might I be intimidating, but there’s one thing I’m good at, and that’s sending muthafuckas like you where you belong. “Enjoy your cold day in hell, fat boy!” he shouted over the balcony before turning to go back inside.
When he entered, he picked up his mask and put it back on. After retrieving his gun, he noticed the Russian chick sitting on the floor. He hadn’t actually shot her. He walked over to her to investigate. She was in such a state of shock that she couldn’t move. Blood trickled from her cheek. She had been grazed by the bullet. She didn’t even look up at him as she spoke. “I was gonna stab him with this knife,” she said, showing him the small dagger she had hidden in the bathroom. “He made me sleep with him. He said if I didn’t, he would kill my boyfriend. He did things to me that not even a whore would tolerate, and I hate him for that.”
Montega looked down at the weeping woman as the tears streamed down her face. He knew he should kill her, but women and children were not part of the plan.
“You know, they say the person you hate is the one you fear the most. And the one you fear always seems to have one up on you in life. They somehow find a way to control you, even when you’re not conscious of it. Well… not anymore. You don’t have to fear him ever again. If I were you, I would get my clothes and get outta here quickly because the police should be on their way.”
Montega backed into the darkness and left.
That night, after returning to his condo, he took the staircase to the rooftop where the Comcast Center looked over him from across the street. Looking out at the city, he felt like Scarface looking up at the blimp that read: THE WORLD IS YOURS. He thought to himself, who would have ever thought this city would be mine? It’s over.
However, he just didn’t know how wrong he was. It wasn’t over. It was only the beginning.
Jasmine sat in the U.S. courthouse, waiting on the outcome of Mike’s appeal. The courtroom was small and nearly empty. Someone had told her that the odds of winning an appeal in the federal system was very tough. Nonetheless, she sat patiently in an elegant, black dress. On her feet, she wore a pair of four-inch, rhinestone sandals that emphasized her statuesque features. Her dark, shoulder-length hair was swept up in a bun with a few strands that fell down her sensuous shoulders, and her vanilla skin glowed with radiant beauty.
Although she came to court confident and dressed to impress, inside, she was a nervous wreck. She hadn’t seen her man since the day he turned himself in. The Feds operated with their own protocol and were nothing like the state and county systems she was accustomed to.
As the judge finally strolled in from the back, Jazz sat up and nervously uncrossed and recrossed her legs. Her sweaty palms left a fine film of perspiration when she brushed them across the fabric of her dress. The fat, bald, and disgusting judge slowly sat in his chair, put on his glasses, and carefully studied the paper he had in his hand.
When Jazz heard the bailiff announce the first case on the docket, butterflies danced in her stomach. Just then, a marshal escorted Mike into the courtroom. He had on the standard green jailhouse jumpsuit and cheap, blue Bruce Lee deck shoes. His hands were handcuffed behind his back, and he looked disturbed. He didn’t have the smile that always melted Jasmine’s heart. Instead, he looked defeated. She figured that part of his demeanor came from the bad news she had heard last night about his cousin Shug being found dead outside of his condo.
When Mike made eye contact with her, she knew that his problems were worse than what she imagined. He was supposed to be happy to see her there, confident he would win his appeal. Jasmine planned to take him home and never let go of him. But something wasn’t right. He knew something that she didn’t.
After the judge rattled off a hundred reasons why he wasn’t going to grant Mike’s appeal, he looked at Mike and had the nerve to ask, “Do you have anything you would like to say to the court, Mr. Harris?”
Mike shook his head no, which completely deflated Jazz. “Very well,” the judge announced. “As I stated earlier, people like you pollute the city of Philadelphia. You are a menace to society, and the arguments that I have heard in this courtroom today have not altered my opinion. Therefore, I am going to deny your appeal.”
Mike glared at the judge with a look of pure hatred and malice as he stood with the marshal. When he looked back over his shoulder, he saw Jasmine with her hand covering her mouth in shock. Tears welled in her eyes as she stood and walked out of the courtroom. Her happy ending had been destroyed in just ten minutes.
After leaving the federal courthouse, Jazz decided to vent the only way she could. She went to visit her girlfriend, Amber, uptown in Summerville. Jazz maneuvered the silver Range Rover Sport up Woodlawn. It was a little after 3 p.m., and the Pastorious Elementary School was just letting out. Children cluttered the streets, lugging book bags and lunch boxes. The speed limit on the one-way block had changed to fifteen miles per hour.
As she slowly rode by the red and brown brick building, she couldn’t believe how crowded the neighborhood got around that time. This was the last day of school for the year. She made a sharp right turn onto Blakemore Street after noticing the young hustlers hanging out on the corner by the Chinese store.
Looking in her rearview, she didn’t see any of the usual young bols out. Everything had changed since Mike went to prison. She got to the bottom of the block and parked then got out.
Amber lived with her aunt Lisa and her two brothers, Burl and Naheem. Their house was two doors down from where her girlfriend Kia’s mom, Stacy, used to live and was covered with Christmas ornaments. Jazz stepped up on the porch and found the door open. She opened the screen and walked in to find a nineteen-year-old Naheem with his crew, Cyirl, Lil’ B, Spizzo, Los, Quin, and Burl.
They were all sitting at the dining room table like it was some kind of summit. When Jazz walked in, they all turned and looked at her.
Jasmine stopped in the doorway as if she were intruding. Naheem, who had his back to the door, was the last to turn around. He was five years younger than his sister, Amber, but a year older than his brother, Burl. Jasmine always thought he was one of the most dynamic young bols ever to come out of the ‘Ville since Kenny Carter, and he was also one of the cutest.
Although his brother Taliban had him beat because of his chunky cheeks, a light complexion, and was unique in his own way, Montega’s pecan-tinted skin was slightly blemished with a few childhood scars, but he had a smooth, adorable baby face.
He was another one who enjoyed being inside his head. However, he wasn’t comfortable around a lot of people, especially large groups, and would prefer to be invisible. After his mother’s tragic accident, Naheem Paschel changed from an innocent, outgoing kid to a calculated street thug who adopted the nickname 9-11.
“Jazz,” 9-11 greeted her.
“Hey, Dink. Where’s Amber?” Jazz asked, and 9-11 pointed upstairs.
Jazz set her purse on the table while giving Lil’ B her usual suspicious look. Very few people liked Lil’ B because he was just too sneaky. “What’s up, Jazz?” he asked as if he were on great terms with her.
“Hi, Brian,” she replied dryly as she walked up the steps to see her girlfriend.
Amber was in the backroom, getting dressed. She had just gotten out of the shower a
nd slipped into a pink bra and thong set. She grabbed some lotion and jumped when Jazz burst in through the door. Jasmine snorted a laugh at her. “Scared ass. I ain’t the police.”
“Bitch, you play too fuckin’ much!” Amber shouted.
“Who did you think I was?” Jasmine shifted her weight to her right hip with a chuckle.
“I thought you were Brian’s perverted ass. I was ready to bust you in the head with this Victoria’s Secret perfume bottle.”
Jazz’s face twisted up. “Bee still on that type of time?”
“Is he? Just the other day, he talkin’ ’bout, ‘Damn, Amber, if you wasn’t my man sister.’ I was like, ‘Boy, if you don’t get your little horny ass outta my face.’ I swear I don’t trust that boy. Anyway, what’s been up, slut? What happened with Mike?”
Jasmine’s face immediately frowned. She walked over to the bed and flopped down. Tears began to swell in her eyes again as if on cue.
“They denied his appeal. The fucking judge was talking shit, like my boo is a danger to the community. I can’t believe he has to do five whole years inside that place. Amber, I’m scared out here. Shit is really crazy, and Reek; he ain’t even returning my calls. I don’t know what’s up with him. He supposed to be Mike’s man. He ain’t even show up to his appeal hearing or let me know anything.”
Amber squeezed her chestnut-brown, Coca-Cola bottle hips into the blue, fitted Seven jeans. “That’s how these guys are, Jazz. They cool peoples when you out on the streets, but soon as you go in, they act like they don’t even know you. That’s corny. If it wasn’t for Mike, these guys wouldn’t have half the money they have now.”
Jazz buried her head in her hands. Tears began to dribble out of her pretty eyes. “I don’t know what to do, Amber. I need him out here with me. The house we got is just too much for a single woman to keep up with; not only that, but it’s hard with all this temptation and shit. I hate sleeping alone.”
Amber sympathized with her girlfriend. She walked over and sat on the bed beside her. Placing an arm around her shoulder, she said, “It’s gonna be okay, Jazz.”
“No, it’s not gonna be okay, Amber. Five years is long as shit when you just did a bid with him. What am I supposed to do out here without him for that long? I can’t believe this is happening to me.”
Amber was speechless. All she could do was give Jazz a shoulder to cry on. She knew Jasmine was strong because if it were up to her, she would have said fuck Mike, or so she thought.
Down in the living room, 9-ll set a Nike duffle bag on the table in front of the rest of his homies and unzipped it. Everyone rose to see the guns inside. He pulled one out and said, “I hope y’all ready for this. If this Luchiano nigga got as much money as y’all say, then y’all better be prepared to do whatever it takes, no matter what. Now, let’s roll out.”
Together, the young wolves took the guns and headed for the mission—something that would change their lives forever…
Questions For The Reader
1. What truly drives Montega and why?
2. What does Diamond have planned to unite the Mexican cartel?
3. Out of all the women in his life, who loves Montega more and why?
4. Out of all of Montega’s friends who is most likely to turn on him?
5. In relations who is Diamond to Montega?
6. As deadly as Diamond is, why would she take a priest as an advisor?
7. What are the names of the men that are true to Diamond?
8. Why did Montega’s Impala get impounded?
9. What was the name of Million Dollar Mike’s first girlfriend?
10. Fun Question: Can you use your pointer finger and go around the maze without going backwards to get to the ‘M’? Try it. Take pictures and send them in for us to post on our instagram page of your success!
Note From The Author
For years, I’ve been told I would never amount to anything in life if I didn’t get my act together. And for years, I’ve struggled with trying to balance myself on this unstable current called life. Life can be cruel at times; it can be harsh, filled with pain, danger, and deceitfulness. And if you accept these problems in your life, then you are what you eat.
On the flip side of things, life can be happiness, fun, full of growth and development, unconditional love, and desire. The only way to achieve this is to believe in ourselves and use our minds to get us there. We can only go as far as our minds take us. It’s like we start off with the mind state that we are born to lose, but in all actuality, if we believe in ourselves, we’d see that we were really built to win. I created the slogan: Beware of the wolf not to scare people but to warn them about me… to warn them that I’ve gotten my act together, and I’m coming for this world with everything I have like a skilled predator with a hunger to succeed.
Now I’m susceptible to teach myself anything. I’m prone to learn anything. I can achieve what I set out for just so long as I put my mind to it. I make my own destiny, and I encourage you all to do the same. The first step to becoming whatever it is you choose to be is: mind over matter.
About the Author
"At first I had just wanted to be heard, now I want to become an immortal author."
KEON SMITH
My journey in writing started from a dream, when I awoke, I attempted to write down what I saw in my sleep. That dream became reality -my latest novel the BLACK KISS OF DEATH; the first of a 9 book series, the MONTEGA Chronicles.
Keon resides in the city of brotherly love and has two beautiful girls along with 24 manuscripts on the verge of being published so that his goal might yet be fulfilled.
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