by Brick
As we scrapped in the middle of the alley, the sounds of our grunts then the sound of the safeties coming off our guns echoed around us. Because he had hit me, I was able to break free. I stood facing Jake’s giant ass. Blood spilled down his face, and I swore I saw tears mixed in. He pulled out his cross and kissed it, the one his grandmother had given him, and I knew some shit was up.
A cool breeze stung my face. My hood fell back, and some of my locks had loosened to cover my face and stuck to the sweat and blood that covered me. Nigga still wasn’t talking, but just by his actions, I knew it had to be about his grandmother. That was when the pieces started forming.
“Yo! I didn’t take your gram out, man! I wouldn’t stand there in your face acting like I did. Nigga, think, bro! I’m ya boy!” I hissed out, pissed all the way off, slamming my free hand against my chest. Who the fuck got to him? And why?
“I trusted you, fam, helped you out when you had no fuckin’ body.”
I shook my head in confusion. I wasn’t down for this shit. That was one thing that bothered me—fuckin’ with my reputation, especially when I knew it was lies.
“Yo, I ain’t did nothing to you, Jackson! I wasn’t even Dame’s gun when your grams was taken out. I ain’t do that shit! That ain’t my MO ever!”
Jake’s huge solid chest rose up and down as he tried to catch his breath. His large hands fisted even as he held his gun out my way. Dude looked like a wounded Doberman, red eyes and flaring nostrils. I could tell he didn’t want to do this, to take me down, which helped me not write this fucka off and pump a bullet right into his skull. He was my fam in this war, and I had to hold him down like he did me. It just was hard right now ’cuz nigga looked possessed or high.
Jake spat, “Naw! Fuck dat shit, yuh heard! I heard Dame talking about that shit to some of the new niggas coming through, said it all, and said they needed to get like you ’cuz that was ya first kill for him.”
My first kill for Dame was never some old lady. That was one thing I’d never done, killed women, elders, or kids, and I never will, unless they like Dame. Dame was a lying muthafucka and trying to start some shit. More like, get me killed. His own fuckin’ gun? Can you believe that shit? Or was he trying to get Big Jake killed? What the fuck? Yo, nigga was bound for hell for real.
“Jake, man, we don’t have time for this bullshit. You need to think, homie. On my word, that’s not my M.O. Never slung bullets at my elders, women, or kids, homie. Never. And my first kill for Dame was not your gram, it was some punk-ass nigga who stole some product from one of the houses. I never done you wrong, except to fuck your face up just now, bro. Think on that shit. I wouldn’t have trusted you or brought you into my real home, nigga! Or lace you up with that auto shop! I ain’t like that, man. That wasn’t me!” I holstered my gun to show I was being about truth, holding my hands up and out. All I could do was wait while Jake studied me, trying to see if I was telling the truth.
See, the difference between Jake and me in this killing game was, if it was me in his shoes, how my mind work, nigga woulda been dead as he was talking his truth. But, that was me, and this was Jake. We had history and a code of respect.
Jake’s hand quickly came up to wipe the sweat, blood, and tears from his face. He shifted back and forth then holstered his gun. Both of his hands came up to cradle the back of his low-cropped head as he looked down at his feet in pain. I never realized until then how much he looked like David Banner until now.
“That was my heart. Raised me as a baby, Trigga. On my word, how he laid that shit out, it sounded like what you told me, man, made it sound like you were the lying one. I . . .” He looked up at me and then punched the wall.
Broken brick crumbled around where his meaty fist made contact, and I kept my distance.
“Look, man, something is going on, a’ight. That nigga runnin’ his mouth with lies, bro. I need you back on the team, or I can put a bullet in you right now. Feel me? You held me down when I had no one, so get that shit together. E.N.G.A., nigga! That even means Dame! He got some shit planned, and he’s pissed because he thinks I want Ray-Ray. So he’s acting stupid, which is dangerous. Don’t let that nigga run game, bro. Don’t do that. You know our plan, so stick to it. On my word, I’ll find out who he ordered to take out your grams, and I’ll help you take that nigga out if he’s still alive. But don’t make me take my own bro out, a’ight. Don’t, man.”
For the first time in a long time, I realized I cared about someone outside of my parents. He really was like a brother to me.
Jake’s eyes locked on me, his shoulders slumped. I studied him while he walked up and held his hand out in peace.
“I always believe God don’t put too much on anyone that they can’t take,” he said. “You would have taken me out, but like you said, bro, I would have taken you out too. Blood brothers for life, man. My bad for dropping trust.”
The voice of a preacher was back in my homie. When he spoke like that, I knew he was a’ight and could be trusted. So I took his hand, and we both bumped shoulders then stepped back. I pulled some of my loose locks back and fixed my jacket.
Jake did the same, fixing his clothes and rubbing his jaw. We checked our watches to see how much time we had then quickly went inside the shop, leaving that bullshit behind us in the alley.
Rich folks moved around, getting help from different workers, broads, and dudes who kept walking past us, ignoring us. We stood at the entryway for like a good five minutes before they looked at us with fear in their eyes.
My pops always told me that a man reflects who he is in how he dresses before even opening his mouth. This can be used for good or to fuck with people’s mental. With me and Big Jake, right now, we were fuckin’ with people’s heads, and it was just what it was. How we lived was how we dressed, and ain’t shit we could do about it, except for the coin Dame gave us. Before anyone could call the cops or feel threatened, Jake spat out Dame’s name, and everyone in the shop changed up their look and started helping us out.
Jake glanced my way as if still having a hard time shaking that we almost lost our lives due to Dame’s bullshit. As some redhead chick who looked kind of nice took my numbers, he came over and gave me dap one more time while my arms were stretched out.
I let a smile spread across my face and nodded. “I was just where you were, homie, and you helped me. So it’s icing. We good for life, if you really mean it, bro.”
“You know I do, bro. Anyway, you right, punk. This suit shit is extra,” Jake joked, moving back to where a dark-haired chick ran her fingers over the inside of his legs to get his numbers again.
“We can provide you both with some nice vests. We’ll put the jackets on the side and keep you two professional, handsome as you two are, and flashy,” the redhead said, glancing her blue eyes up at me as she kneeled before me.
I could tell she was trying to flirt now, but I wasn’t into it. Once a person ignored me just once, then I pretty much was not into noticing that person ever again. Wasn’t nothing the broad could do for me but finish my outfit.
“Yeah, vests would work. Leave all flash to bossman; that’s his style,” I said, looking at my reflection.
Had to say, what they had me trying on was kinda dope on me, if I wanted that business look. I sported black slacks with a red shirt. Then the redhead fitted a vest on me.
I picked up my cell to look at Youtube to see how to wear a tie. I wasn’t really about putting a tie on. Shit reminded me of nooses, but for the look of this fit and not to hear bossman’s yapping mouth, I let the redhead put one on me. I worked the knot in a way that didn’t make me feel like I was choking. I never had my pops here to show me how to do these things, which made this all bittersweet for me just that fast.
Dame took that from me, but it was cool. Payback was coming. I remembered watching my mom pick my pop’s outfits. Remembered how he seemed to love how she dressed him and worked his ties or ironed his suits. It was something private about it. And fuck if I didn’t know
the right word, but it looked like they were fuckin’ without actually fuckin’ when she dressed him, and it made me proud as a kid. I wanted that.
My mind went to Diamond. I wondered what it would be like to have her do those things for me. Wondered how sexy she would look if I could watch her pick out a fit that matched me now, some type of dress that hugged her curves and made her dark cinnamon skin glow.
“Hey, Trigg, you look like a college kid, man. Good look,” Jake joked, breaking me out of my thoughts.
Laughing, I rubbed where my beard only covered my chin. I had to agree, I looked good. “Fuck you, nigga! You look like one too. Nah, wait . . . ya look like one of those frat dudes from Stomp the Yard. ”
Big Jake gave a booming laugh. I noticed how both chicks turned red like a hot dog at how we spoke to each other, and that made me laugh harder.
“Yeah, we’ll take this and check out some shoes. We need this stuff now; we only got an hour left,” I quickly said, rolling up the sleeves of my shirt around my biceps. I checked my form again.
The redhead kept unbuttoning and buttoning my shirt to see my abs. Shit was funny to me.
We picked up some black Italian shoes with bottoms that we could run in, that went with what we wore. Then we paid the owner, who was, to my surprise, an elder brother. When he spoke, he sounded like Idris Elba in Prometheus, kinda looked like him too. He gave us his cards, shook our hands, and then showed us out. We left out of the suit place in our new threads, looking caked-up, with new shades, giving us that icing. Big Jake had on all black with a red Rolex. The muscles in his arms were so tight when he crossed them, I thought his shirt was going to split.
The moment we texted Dame, he blew up our cells, telling us to sit outside of the house so we could head to Decatur. After pulling up, we both got out, cuts on our faces and all. We already had come up with a fallback if Dame asked what went down. I was about to remind him, just in case, when I heard him growl low in his throat.
“Remember to chill,” I muttered to him. “We got this.”
Jake gave a nod, putting on his shades, and I did the same.
Dame came out talking loud and shit, flapping his gums like the bitch he was, while speaking with Pookie, his arm draped over that lame’s shoulders as if they were homies. Shit made my abs clench and my fingers itch.
I saw Diamond slowly walking behind Dame. She wore a dress that definitely would match me well. Her fit was a red and black short bandage-like dress that stopped at the middle of her thighs to show her legs. Only then I’d realized how thick, long, and pretty they were. Her big doe eyes were shooting blades into Pookie’s skull. It was obvious that if she had any hidden blades on her, she would have cut that nigga up like scissors.
The sun covered us all in its light, making me shift just a little. The way I was standing, it appeared as if I was watching Dame, but really, I was watching her. Her ink-black hair was up like usual, big diamond studs in each ear, and her lips were like rubies.
Gina walked at her side in a similar dress, but it was candy pink. Her long hair curled around her face, falling down the side of her shoulder, framing her face, which caught my attention.
My eyes narrowed the closer Gina got. I realized why Big Jake had growled. Her caked-on makeup couldn’t cover all of the bruises that showed on her baby face and neck. Dame had fucked baby girl up. Had hurt her good. It was visible by the way she was walking too.
I knew that killing that nigga might be too good. The act of torture was now added to the list of murking that nigga. What kept iggin’ me was the fact that she was even there. It had me wondering what was up, because now it seemed that Gina was his extra doll now too.
“Hey, this nigga Pookie is that shit,” Dame said. “He got my stacks high. Trigga, Big Jake, all you niggas of the house, pay attention. This is a nigga who just got my product in some new hands. Got-who did you say?”
Pookie stuck his chest out like he was king. He had on a bright Halloween yellow made-by-Steve Harvey-looking suit. His hair was braided back in two pigtails and gripped the front of his jacket as if airing it out. That nigga had to be roasting.
A coon-ass smile spread across his lying smashed-pumpkin face, he said, “I got a cousin in Cali who is hitting me up. I might, I mean I got him interested in our product and will ship it out to L.A.”
You had to be stupid to believe the words coming out this nigga’s mouth. Strike one, that I knew he was lying wasn’t even the obvious “might” that slipped from his mouth. It was how that nigga stuttered, the way his eyes shifted like a rat. Left and right. And how red in the face he got, as if he was holding his breath praying that we believed him.
Dame’s loco ass just cheesed along, gassing him up. “Hey, it’s big thangs in your future, Pookie. We got something big about to pop off, and you just helped me look even better. We need to ride out, and you coming. Going to introduce you to a new world, nigga. This is only the beginning.”
Pulling up in front of us, a black limo hit that brake. Big Jake went into bodyguard mode and covered Dame while he got in, then Diamond and Gina. As Diamond and Gina slid into the limo, I got a nice view of ass, tits, and thighs, perks of working for this devil nigga.
Diamond sported some flashy shades, which I was good on. I could feel her watching me but in a way that Dame couldn’t tell. If she didn’t have those shades, I knew without a doubt that Dame woulda fucked her up. The longer I was around her, the more I knew if I got the chance to get her alone, I’d eat her pussy till she couldn’t stand anymore.
I knew that, no matter how much my dick wanted to get into her wetness, I couldn’t, because a smart nigga was a blind nigga. Dumb, crazy niggas could quickly tell when their pussy had stepped up into new dick, and Dame was a crazy nigga. And because my dick was bigger than his, he’d definitely know if I had made Diamond’s walls mine.
“Ey Ey! Bossman got the best ass in the Trap. Must respect!” Pookie’s loud ass grinned at me. His voice lowered when he reached out to dap me and my own hands were still in my pockets. “’Bout to step up, nigga. Step right into where you at. Ha!”
I ain’t say shit. I just stepped back, slammed the door before his foot could get all the way into the car, and turned my back to the limo smiling when I heard that nigga’s baby-soft cry.
Heading to the Escalade with Big Jake, we all trailed the limo heading to Decatur, while me and Big Jake spoke in code, making plans, and back on track as brothers in bond. Wasn’t nothing breaking us but death; that was our code.
E.N.G.A. was back on track. Now I had to keep Big Jake calm because not only did he have to figure out Dame’s lies, he was also worried about Gina. Dame was beating her ass too much for our taste, so we agreed that it might be time to try to change some shit up.
Ray-Ray
“Hey, Ray-Ray, Gina.”
Both me and Gina looked up at Sasha, shocked to see her speaking to us. Me and Gina had been sitting on the patio that sat off Dame’s room, waiting on him to come back. Gina was telling me she had talked to Big Jake, and that he and Trigga had got into a fight. I ain’t know what about because I didn’t get a chance to ask.
The night before, Dame had taken us with him to some meeting in the middle of no fuckin’ where. Politicians, clergy members, members of law enforcement and the like, all crooks, sat there in that big warehouse with him plotting on how to get his product into the United States and how to make sure it flooded the streets of the A. Niggas were grimy, and by niggas, I meant the police too. I knew anybody associated with his ass was a menace and wasn’t protecting anything but their pockets.
I had seen shit like that in movies, but I ain’t ever witnessed no shit like that. They brought in these two white bitches that looked like Jessica Rabbit and made them try some knew shit that started with a K. One of those bitches started bleeding from her eyes, and the other completely passed the fuck out then woke up like a fuckin’ zombie. Bitch started scratching her own skin off but was begging for another hit.
&nb
sp; When Dame asked Trigga to spit knowledge about that shit they gave them two girls, I got angry at him. Why he know all that shit about that stuff? Was he gon’ be pushing that shit to folks too? So he was gon’ be one of them niggas posted in the trap all day now? Then how the fuck was he gon’ find time to kill the nigga and get us the fuck up outta this place?
For real though, I was really feeling some type of way because of what he saw me do yesterday. I already knew that Trigga wouldn’t want shit to do with me after seeing the way I sucked Dame off. I could just cut that fantasy of me and him being together out of my head. No way, with the way Dame nutted all in my mouth and on my face, would Trigga see me as more than the ho Dame had made me. I was just wondering if he understood that if I didn’t do it Dame probably would have done some weird shit to me.
Like when he called Sasha in the room that morning and made me sit my pussy on her face. He told Sasha that her pussy had never been as good as mine. Then he made me grind on her face while he sat in his chair and played with his dick. I was half-scared that bitch would bite my shit or do something to hurt, but she was so happy to be back in the nigga’s good graces, she did whatever he told her to.
“What, Sasha?” Gina asked with attitude, bringing me back to reality.
We knew that bitch was full of shit and wasn’t trusting the fake-ass smile plastered across her face. She stood with her arms folded across her nonexistent titties in a lace bra and coochie-cutters.
“Don’t get no nasty attitude, bitch,” she told Gina.
I wanted to bop that ho right in her face.
“Daddy the one told me to come out and tell you to prep Ray-Ray for her first night at the club.”
I was skeptical. I looked at Gina then back at Sasha. “Dame gon’ let me leave the house without him?” I asked.