by Tranay Adams
“Who?” he angled his head, looking at her side ways like she wasn’t about to say his name.
“You. My king. Who else?” she smirked and threw her arms around his neck.
Te’Qui placed his hands on her waist, staring her in the face. The animosity vanished from his face and he finally cracked a smile. “It better be me. Had you said any other nigga’z name, I woulda stanked yo’ ass.”
“Oh, really?” she smirked harder, coming closer to him. Their noses were nearly touching. “So, you gone kill me while I’m carrying yo’ baby, nigga?”
“Nope. I’ma wait ‘til you have ‘em, then I’m nod yo’ ass.” he smiled harder, looking into her eyes lovingly.
Kesha smacked him in the back of his head playfully and said, “Stop playing, boy, and gimme a kiss.”
Te’Qui and Kesha turned their heads counterclockwise as they kissed deep and passionately.
“You know I love you, right?” he stared deep into her eyes, meaning every word he’d just spoken to her. He’d never loved any woman in the world more than he loved her. He’d smashed mad bitchez and didn’t any of them mean shit to him but pussy. Kesha had his heart and his undying loyalty. There wasn’t anything in the world that he wouldn’t do for her. Little momma was his ride or die, for sure.
“You better ‘cause if you don’t, after I have this baby, I’ma kick yo’ ass.” Kesha swore, holding him by the collar of his hoodie as she brushed her nose up against his, affectionately. She then kissed him three times, mashing her lips against his the third time. “I love you too, baby.”
Te’Qui threw his around Kesha’s shoulder, wincing when he did so. Her face frowned up as she looked to him wondering what was wrong. “You okay?”
“Yeah, it’s just my ribs, I’m be good though. Come on.” he ushered her towards the emergency room exit. Coming across T.J., he motioned for him to follow them outside. Once they were outside, he turned to Kesha. “Baby, go get the car, I’ma holla at T.J. for a minute.”
“Okay.” Kesha smiled and kissed him. As she turned to walk away, Te’Qui smacked her on her ample bottom. She stopped mid-walk, looked over her shoulder grinning, and twerked for him a little.
“Alright, now, don’t get the shit fucked up out cha when we get home.” Te’Qui cracked a one sided grin.
“Nigga, please, you ain’t scaring nobody.” she walked on.
“Alright, bet.” he watched his woman as she continued to stroll towards the parking lot, observing her big old booty rocking back and forth.
Right then, T.J. stepped beside him. Instantly, Te’Qui’s demeanor changed. His face took on a more serious expression and he looked to homeboy.
“First off, homie,” Te’Qui began. “I wanna thank you for savin’ my ass. If it wasn’t for you, them fools woulda laid down me, my lady and our unborn child.”
T.J. nodded his head and said, “Don’t mention it. It’s all love.”
“Nah, you don’t know me, homie. You didn’t have to stick yo’ neck out there for me like that. You don’t owe me jack shit. You feel me?”
“I feel you.”
“Which brings me to my other question, what were you doin’ out there any way?” he looked him square in his eyes, trying to read what kind of nigga he was. That nigga T.J. didn’t even flinch. There wasn’t any hoe in his DNA. That’s for damn sure.
“Look, I’ma keep it a g-stack witchu, Blood,” T.J. started off. “A nigga ‘bout the ski-mask business, I stay hitting licks and shit. When I saw that nigga Enzo, knowing that he basically a mothafucking crack king, I saw a pay day. I was gon’ snatch that ass up and have ‘em take me to where he holding all his money and dope at. Right when I was finna bust my move, I saw you making yours. I saw you in trouble, and decided to step in, you feel what I’m saying?”
“Like I said earlier, dawg, I appreciate chu lookin’ out for a nigga.” he dapped him up. “Listen, limme bless you with a lil’ somethin’, somethin’ for yo’ trouble.”
“Nah,” homie put his hands up, letting him know he didn’t want anything from him. “I can’t take that from you. What I did was just good lookin’ out.”
“You sho’? ‘Cause I could lay somethin’ on you tonight.”
“As fucked up as I am out here, I don’t know how the hell I’m fixing my mouth to tell you no.” he shook his head and ran his hands down his face. He couldn’t help thinking about how close to broke he was. The lick he’d hit the night prier netted him a little change but it would only last for so long. He was counting on the loot he’d make snatching up Enzo keeping his pockets straight for a minute, but that hit was botched on the account of Te’Qui getting to his victim before he did.
Te’Qui’s forehead creased with a line as he stood upright and folded his arms across his chest. He looked at T.J like he was generally concerned about his problems. “Look, homie, I’m not tryna get all up in yo’ B.I., but what’s up witchu?”
T.J took a deep breath before beginning. “Blood, to make a long story short, my baby momma and some old nigga hit me for six birds and sixty bands, stuck me for all my shit.” he shook his head thinking about the haul he’d come up on, only to have some low life hoodrat rape him for it. From the look in his eyes, Te’Qui thought the nigga wanted to cry. If he would have, he wouldn’t have blamed him. The way he was talking, homegirl must have hit him for something real nice. “Bitch fucked me with no vaseline, dawg.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I know how it is to lose it all, then have to figure out how to get it all back again.” Te’Qui assured him. “Limme hit cho pocket with a lil’ somethin’ tomorrow though. You know, a lil’ somethin’ to hold you over ‘til you get back on you feet.”
“I can’t let chu do that. I’ma man. I can’t be out here taking no hands out.” He told him. “Check this out though. You know what chu can do for me?”
“All you gotta do is name it, homie.”
“If you really wanna help a nigga out, look out fa me the next time another lick falls into yo’ lap. I’d greatly appreciate it.” T.J. looked at him with sincere eyes.
Te’Qui stared at him for a moment, weighing his options as he thought things over, massaging his chin. Making up his mind, he pulled his cellular from out of his pocket and outstretched it towards T.J. “I got chu, my nig. Just program yo’ math into my cell, and I’ma holla at chu once I come up on something.”
“Fa sho,” T.J. programmed his telephone number into the cell phone and handed it back to Te’Qui, who stashed the cellular inside of his pocket. “Good looking out, my nigga.” he dapped him up and moved to head towards his ride. He stopped and turned around once Te’Qui called out to him. “’Sup with it?”
“Where you from, Blood?”
T.J. told him the blood gang that he was from.
“I’m from Eastside 20s Bloods.” Te’Qui replied.
“Blood Love,” T.J threw up the Bloody B. Te’Qui returned the gesture.
Right then, Kesha pulled up in front of Te’Qui and unlocked the passenger door. He snatched the door open and jumped into the front passenger seat. He gave his baby momma another kiss and she drover off, passing T.J as he trekked towards his whip. She honked the horn and they waved at him. He waved back and continued towards his ride, fishing his keys out of his pocket.
“Looks like somebody made them a new friend.” Kesha glanced at Te’Qui and smiled.
“Ain’t no new friends, baby. That nigga back there saved my life, so I owe him one. I’ma pay that debt, after that we square.”
“Aww, come on. You could always use some new friends.”
“Baby, I don’t even have any old friends.” Te’Qui told her. “The only friend I have ever had in life besides Poochie was my nigga, Baby Wicked; one of the downest, truest, realest young niggaz to have ever walked the earth. I don’t trust nan’ other nigga outside of ‘em.”
“I guess it’s just you and me against the world, huh?”
“Me, you and that bun you got bakin’ in that oven.” he
glanced at her slightly protruding belly, rubbing on it gently. He then interlocked his fingers with hers, lifted her hand and kissed it. Next, he kissed her hand and laid his head back against the headrest, staring out of the window.
CHAPTER FOUR
Te’Qui was stirred awake by the ringing and vibration of his cellular. He turned on the lamp light as he twisted his knuckle at the corner of his eye. He picked up his cell phone and looked at the display. Recognizing the number, he frowned up wondered why homie was banging his jack at that time a night.
“What’s brackin’, Big?” Te’Qui spoke groggily into his cell phone.
“Man, my bad fa wakin’ you up at this hour, but I needa holla at chu, ASAP.” Big Will said into the cellular.
Te’Qui glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. It was two o’clock in the morning.
“It’s all good, Big, speak onnit.” he told him as he lay back in bed. Kesha laid her head against him and rubbed on his chest.
“It’s best that I holla at chu in person. A nigga ain’t really tryna blast his bitness over the phone. You think we can meet up?”
“When?” Te’Qui asked, looking down at his lady and rubbing his hand up and down her arm. He then kissed her on the top of her head.
“Shit, right now if you can.”
There was silence and Big Will knew that Te’Qui was thinking about it, so he decided to sweeten the pot for him.
“Look, here, I know you gotta lil’ one onna way. If you can holla at me right now, I’ll drop a lil’ somethin’, somethin’ on you. How ‘bout that?”
“Alright, bet. Where you wanna link up at?”
Big Will ran him the address where he wanted to meet him at. It was the Denny’s parking lot at Universal Village by USC College.
“You got it, dawg?”
“Yeah, I got chu. I’ll see you at, like, 2:30.”
“Alright. No doubt.”
Te’Qui disconnected the call and slipped out of bed. His moving caused Kesha to stir awake. She lay on the space he once was fluttering her eyelids and watching her man get dressed. Te’Qui slipped on his red Dickie shirt and matching pants. Afterwards, he took his Glizzy from underneath his pillow and tucked it on his waistline.
“Where you going, baby?” Kesha inquired. She then yawned and stretched his arms, hearing her bones crack.
“I gotta make a run.” Te’Qui said as he stood before the nightstand mirror, buttoning up his Dickie shirt.
“A run where, nigga?” She twisted her face up and angled her head.
“I gotta go see this dude; a Money Man. You know don’t shit get me outta bed butta dolla or conflict.”
“Unh huh, limme find out.” she gave him a side eye as she folded her arms across her bosoms.
“Let chu find out what?” he turned around from the nightstand to her, having just picked up his red T fitted cap.
“That chu finna go lay up with the next bitch.”
“Hahahahahahaha!” he laughed his ass off. “Yo’, on Bloods, yo’ ass really be trippin’. I ain’t finna go see no bitch, right now. And if I was, best believe that hoe ‘bouta come offa check. Shiiit, I gotta mothafuckin’ baby onna ‘way. Like them pimp niggaz say, ‘bitch better break bread or play dead.’”
“Mmmmhmmm,” she gave him a look like she knew he was trying to run game her. “Anyway, I’m finna grab my strap ‘cause I’m rolling witcho ass.” she threw the sheet from off her and jumped out of bed.
“Are you serious, man?” he asked her as she walked past him, headed towards the closet.
“Yep. ‘Cause I don’t trust a damn thang.” she said, looking through the clothing hanging on the rack inside of the closet.
“Alright,” he plopped down on the bed. “But cho black ass is drivin’.” he pointed his finger at her.
“Whatever, nigga, don’t try to deter me from coming.” she said, slipping on her clothes.
Te’Qui chuckled as he watched her get dressed.
2:27 P.M.
Kesha pulled up inside of the parking lot and looked out of the front passenger window, just as Te’Qui was. At the end of their line of vision was a big bald headed ass nigga in an all red suit that looked something like the one Neo wore in The Matrix Reloaded movie. He was posted up beside a black on black Cadillac Escalade truck on some big ass chrome rims. Posted at the grill of the SUV was a tall cat, dressed in all black. He wore his hair in short twisties and had a goatee that outlined his mouth perfectly. He wore a serious face, and appeared to be keeping an eye on everything surrounding him. Homie was wearing a black bandana tied around his head, Tupac style, and black shades. His slightly muscular frame filled out a black wife beater, which he wore under a black jean jacket. Although Te’Qui couldn’t see the burna for himself, he knew he was packing heat because he was Big Will’s bodyguard, Drama.
“That big Suge Knight looking nigga is who you ‘pose to be meeting with up here?” Kesha looked to her man.
“Yeah, that’s Big Will, pull up over there by ‘em.” Te’Qui told her, eyes still on Big Will.
“Alright.” she said, turning around inside of the parking lot and pulling up two parking spots down from Big Will’s truck.
“Bae, you good?” Kesha asked Te’Qui just as he was about to jump out of the car.
“’Sup?” he looked over his shoulder at her.
“You want me and my friend to roll witchu?” she tapped her purse, referring to her gun she’d brought along just in case some shit cracked off at this little meeting of his.
Te’Qui chuckled and said, “Nah, baby. It’s all good.” he kissed her on the lips and then hopped out. Unbeknownst to him, Kesha was still eyeballing him and holding onto her purse. If drama arose, she was putting some holes in Will’s big ass.
“Big mothafuckin’ Will, what’s brackin’ witchu, Blood?” Te’Qui slapped hands with the big man and patted him on the back.
“Ain’t shit. Maintainin’. You know how I do.”
“Right, right, right.” he nodded.
“You remember Drama, right?” Big Will nodded to his bodyguard.
“Yeah, I remember, Blood.” Te’Qui turned to him. Throwing his head back, he said, “’Sup with it, homie?”
Drama looked Te’Qui up and down, then turned back to his scanning of the parking lot.
“Don’t mind ‘em. He’s the strong silent type.”
“Sho’ you right.” Te’Qui said, still staring at the side of Drama’s face. He did his homework on the OG killa. He was a sixty-five-year-old cat, and was in excellent shape, for a man his age. Let the streets tell it, and Drama made his bones knocking off niggaz for mafia big wigs back in the day. There wasn’t a dome he wouldn’t split for the right change. The only reason he slowed down on the murder shit was because his nephew, Big Will, pulled him in off the streets to become his bodyguard and chauffeur. Still, every now and then the CEO of Hood Rich Records would let him bust his gun whenever there was some mothafucka that just couldn’t seem to get right.
Big Will took a breath before going on to say what was on his mind. “I gotta situation that requires yo’ level of expertise.” he told him straight like that.
“Oh, yeah, what’s that?” Te’Qui asked as he made a serious expression and rubbed hands together in anticipation of what he had to say.
“First off, I told you I was gon’ hit chu off with a somethin’ ‘fore meetin’ up with me, so limme gon’ and get that out the way.” Big Will took a brief look around the parking lot and pulled out a folded manilla envelope that had a thick stack of money impression on it. He then passed it to Te’Qui on the sneak.
Te’Qui stuck the manilla envelope into the small of his back, looking around to make sure there wasn’t anybody watching him.
“Good lookin’ out.” Te’Qui dapped up the giant.
“Don’t mention it.” Big Will told him. “But, look, you know I got my own indie label, Hood Rich Records.”
“Yeah, man, y’all doin’ y’all thang out here, for rea
l, for real.” he folded his arms across his chest, nodding his head. “Salute to yo’ team and y’all success.” he saluted him.
“That’s love; appreciate that shit, especially with all of these hating ass niggaz out here.”
“Oh, most def’.”
“Anyway, man, my artist, the biggest artist on my label, Killa Tay. Well, Blood, got jumped and robbed of his shines.”
“Onna real?” Te’Qui frowned up and angled his head. He couldn’t believe someone had the audacity to put hands on dude. He knew that whoever brought harm to him was going to pay their weight in flesh and blood, because what he gathered from his music and his persona, homie was one of the coldest gangstaz to have ever touched a microphone.
“Yeah, family, they done a real number on my nigga, too. Come here fa a second,” Big Will motioned for Te’Qui to follow him with his meaty hand. They made their way around the Escalade truck and stopped at the front passenger door. He knocked on the black tinted window. A moment later, the window descended, to display a light-skinned nigga that had been riding shotgun. The side of his face was swollen, his left eyelid was swollen shut, his lips were busted and he had black and blue bruising below both of his eyes. On top of that, his arm was in a sling. This was the multi-platinum recording artist, Killa Tay. And somebody had beaten the dog shit out of homie. He was so ashamed of his appearance that he couldn’t even look Te’Qui in the face.
“Damn, my nigga, who the fuck caught you down bad?” Te’Qui asked curiously, looking homeboy over. Seeing how fucked up he was made him mad for him. He just knew he was ready to soak the shirts of the bitch-made-ass niggaz that had pounded him out.
“I don’t know exactly, but them niggaz gotta pay. Mothafuckaz thinking it’s a joke wit’ me, homie. I want some get-back, and the big homie says you the one to get me just that.” Killa Tay looked to Big Will.