by Tranay Adams
“Y’all niggaz fallback,” Big Will commanded and lowered his gun to his side. As soon as he took his gun off of T.J., his goons tucked their guns. The big man looked at Enzo and his crew, and they still had their bangaz pointed at T.J. “Enzo, tell yo’ goons to tuck they shit, man. This fat mothafucka got me dead to rights.” he tucked his gun on his waistline.
Enzo nodded and tucked his gun inside of his suit. He then addressed Booney and the rest of his goons. “Y’all niggaz tuck y’all straps, man.”
With his command given, Enzo’s niggaz put their bangaz away.
T.J. found himself being mad dogged by Big Will, Enzo and their goons. He could literally feel the heat of the intensity of their gazes. But he wasn’t studying any of their asses; he didn’t give a fuck about them staring him down. He knew their asses were in pocket just as long as his shooter had Big Will’s ass marked for death, with that red dot.
“Y’all niggaz have a nice night,” T.J., still smiling wickedly, threw the hood over his head and ran off into the night. Once he was out of Big Will and Enzo’s goons’ sight, the red dot disappeared from Big Will’s chest. About a minute later, the squealing of tires could be heard as two cars sped away.
Big Will’s face twisted with anger as he pulled out his cell phone and dialed someone up. He paced the parking lot ground as he listened to the phone ringing. While he was listening to the phone ring, Enzo and the goons were talking shit and swearing to get revenge.
“Yo’, Berry, round up the platoon, it’s on tonight, on blood gang!” Big Will swore into his cellular. He then snatched the piece of paper from off the windshield of the 600 Benz and looked at the address that T.J. had written on it. After memorizing the address on it, he balled the paper up and dropped it at his feet in a ball.
***
T.J. parked six houses down from Te’Qui’s house. He kept his vehicle idling as he watched the block. A wicked smile spread across his lips when he looked into the side view mirror and saw two all-black vans coming up the street. He slid down in the driver’s seat and pulled his hood over his head. He gripped his gun and looked out of the window. Right then, the vans drove past him. In the front passenger window of the first van, he saw the passenger pull a ski-mask over his head. In the front passenger window of the second van, he clocked the passenger, who was already masked up, picking an AK-47 up from off the floor.
“It’s showtime,” T.J. announced and picked up his cellular. Putting his fist to his mouth, he cleared his throat and hit up Te’Qui. As soon as Te’Qui picked up the call, he started in on him. “Fuck out the house, Blood, buncha masked up niggaz with choppaz ‘bouta hit cho shit...”
Still on the jack with Te’Qui, T.J. watched as a dozen hittaz with AKs jumped out of the vans. They charged Te’Qui’s home gripping their assault rifles.
Once T.J. wrapped up his conversation with Te’Qui, he tossed his cellular into the front passenger seat and busted a U-turn in the middle of the residential street. Adjusting his rearview mirror and looking into it, he saw one of the masked up niggaz attempting to kick down the front door of Te’Qui’s house.
T.J. smiled devilishly as he ripped down the street.
***
Kesha came through the front door pulling the hood from off her head. She switched hands with whatever she was carrying wrapped up in a blanket when she shut the door behind her. She heard Te’Qui inside of the kitchen but she didn’t want to bother him so she decided to head upstairs to their bedroom. She’d gotten about five feet from the first step, when he came out of the kitchen in a hurry. He was wearing an apron and carrying a pot and a wooden spoon stained with pasta sauce.
“Where you been, momma? Dressed in all black like you was out puttin’ in work?” Te’Qui asked with furrowed brows, taking in his lady’s attire.
“I, uh, umm, I was just browsing Target.” Kesha told him.
“Oh, yeah, for what?”
“Oh, I was just looking for stuff to decorate the baby’s room with.”
“You shoulda told me, I woulda rolled out witchu.”
“It’s okay; we can just hit some stores tomorrow.”
“Oh, fa sho’.” Te’Qui noticed whatever she had wrapped up in a blanket, which made him curious as to what it was. “What chu got there?”
“This? A Japanese sword.” she held up the blanket. “I was thinking about decorating our bedroom like a Dojo. You know, try a lil’ something different. I’m getting kinda tired of looking at the same ol’ decorations we got up now.”
“Yeah, I feel you. I’m kinda tired of that shit too. It’s played out.” he claimed. “Look, I wanted you to taste this pasta I made from scratch and tell me what chu think.”
“Mmmmm, babe, I love pasta.” she licked her lips hungrily. “Limme try.” she approached him as he got a nice helping of the pasta on his wooden spoon. He let her taste it and she shut her eyelids briefly, smiling and loving the taste. “Mmmm, babe, this is good. This is real good.”
“Really?” Te’Qui smiled.
“Unh huh, yes.” Kesha licked the little bit of pasta from off her lips.
“Well, I’m glad you like it, ma. ‘Cause tonight we’re havin’ Italian.” he kissed her lips and made his way back inside of the kitchen, tasting the pasta along the way.
“What’s on the menu?”
“Ravioli and....” The cordless house phone rung and cut Te’Qui’s conversation short. He walked over to the telephone which was hanging on the wall. He looked at the caller identification and saw T.J.’s number, which made him frown up.
“Who is it, bae?” Kesha asked with a furrowed forehead.
“T.J.” Te’Qui said as he mad dogged the cordless on the wall.
The telephone continued to ring as Te’Qui and Kesha stared at it. Finally, Te’Qui took a breath and answered it, placing it to his ear.
“Fuck you want, nigga? What?” Worry spread over Te’Qui’s face.
Kesha’s forehead wrinkled hearing the concern in Te’Qui’s voice. She leaned to the side to look inside of the kitchen. When she did, she saw Te’Qui sitting the pot of pasta on top of the stove and picking his gun up from the kitchen table top. Before she knew it, he was storming into the living room with his telephone glued to his ear and his banga down at his side. She watched as he peered through the blinds.
“Oh, shit!” Te’Qui said aloud, seeing the two vans of hittaz pull up outside of his house.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” Kesha inquired, as she walked over to the window and peered outside of the blinds for herself. When she saw the vans parked in front of the house, her stomach dropped and her heart thudded. “Oh, my God!”
“Blood, come through the back of yo’ house, I’ma park out in the alley and wait for you.” Kesha overheard T.J. say to Te’Qui on the jack.
“Alright. I got Keesh. I’ll be out there in a hot one.” Te’Qui disconnected the call and tossed the cordless on the couch. He then turned to Kesha, putting his hand on her shoulder. “Bae, I need you to run upstairs and clean my safe out. The combo is 85-01-05. I’ma hold it down, down here. Now, hurry up.” he kissed her on the forehead and took hold of the blanket in her hand. She looked at him like What are you doing? “Go on now, I got this. You gon’ need both hands to carry that money down.” Reluctantly, Kesha released the blanket and hurried up the staircase.
Te’Qui looked inside of the blanket and saw that it was hiding a high-powered sniper rifle with a silencer attached to its barrel. His forehead creased with several lines wondering why his future wife was packing such a weapon, especially when she’d claimed to have gone window shopping earlier that night.
“Fuck is she doin’ with this?” Te’Qui asked no one in particular. He then pushed that question to the back of his brain, and glanced through the blinds once again. His heart thudded seeing a dozen masked up hittaz with AKs spilling out of the vans. They separated in threes. Pairs of four went on either side of the house while the last four charged the short steps upon the front porch.
Bang, ba
ng, bang, bang!
Te’Qui looked through the blinds and saw one of them niggaz trying to kick the door down. Hearing hurried footfalls coming from his right, he looked to find Kesha with two lumpy pillow cases coming down the staircase.
“Hit the backdoor! Go, go, go, go,” Te’Qui waved the blanketed rifle towards the backdoor, signaling for Kesha to go to it. Kesha followed his instructions and he followed behind her, covering her ass in case them hittaz came through the door before they could clear the house.
Te’Qui stopped at Kesha’s rear and turned to the front door. As he watched the front door, he pointed his gun at it and used his other hand to unwrap the sniper rifle. While he was doing this, Kesha was sitting her pillowcases down on the floor and unlocking the backdoor. By the time she’d finished unlocking the door, Te’Qui was pulling the rifle from out of the blanket. He lifted the rifle and pointed it at the front door, just as it swung open. He aimed the long assault rifle at the first mothafucka that crossed the threshold into his home and pulled the trigger.
Choot!
The man’s forehead snapped back and his blood and brain fragments flew out of the back of his mask. He felt to the floor and the rest of the hittaz scrambled out of the way. When they saw Te’Qui and Kesha fleeing out of the backdoor, they opened fire with their AK-47s. Their bullets ripped through the cupboards and bottom cabinets, sending splinters flying everywhere.
Te’Qui and Kesha were ducked down and running when they came out of the backdoor of the house, bullets whizzing over their heads. They hurried down the short steps of the back porch, making tracks towards the double back gates, which were held together by an old rusty chain. Behind these gates was T.J. who had just hopped out of his car, two .9mm handguns at his sides.
Blocka!
T.J. shot the chain that held the gates together and kicked them wide open. Seeing the hittaz pouring in from either side of the house, he pointed his twin bangaz at them, popping off crazily. The hittaz started dropping like flies, killing over in the grass.
“Come on, y’all! Come on!” T.J. called out, letting his handguns spit death.
“Get in the car!” Te’Qui told Kesha. Seeing that she was following his orders, he turned around and lifted both of his weapons. He joined in on the action with T.J., popping off his guns.
“Aaaaaah!” One of the hittaz hollered out and winced, having taken one in the chest.
“Gaaaahhh!” Another one of the hittaz took two in the neck.
Once Te’Qui had taken out two of the masked up men, he continued his sprint towards T.J.’s car. By this time, Kesha was jumping into the backseat and hollering for Te’Qui to hurry up. She’d spotted two more hittaz behind him and was afraid they’d kill him before they were able to get away.
T.J. had just made it back around to the driver’s side of his vehicle when he clocked the hittaz that were on Te’Qui’s ass. He pointed his twins at them and laid down some cover for his homeboy. The hittaz ducked down and returned fire. Bullets ripped through the side of T.J.’s car and shattered its tinted windows. T.J. and Kesha ducked to avoid the fire that the hittaz sent at them.
Seeing that his homeboy and his fiancée were in danger, Te’Qui whipped around to the threats at his back. He tucked his gun into his waistline and pointed the rifle at the propane tank which was located beneath a Black & Decker grill. Te’Qui squeezed his left eyelid shut and clenched his jaws. Once he had the sighting of his rifle lined up with the tank, he pulled the trigger.
Choot!
Ka-Boom! Boom!
The propane tank exploded and sent the hittaz flying across the backyard, on fire. They landed on the ground dead. Seconds later, their severed arms and legs crashed to the surface not too far behind them.
Te’Qui lowered the rifle at his side as he looked on at his handiwork, the golden orange flames of the fire illuminating him.
“Come on, Blood, we gotta go!” T.J. called out to Te’Qui. He’d just jumped behind the wheel of his car and slammed the door shut.
“Bae, come on!” Kesha called out of the back window to her man as well.
Te’Qui whipped out his handgun so it wouldn’t be digging him in his groin. He then jumped into the front passenger seat and slammed the door shut behind him. Right after, T.J. was speeding down the trashy alley way. He looked up into the rearview and saw the raging fire in Te’Qui’s back yard.
Twelve’s sirens and fire truck sirens filled the air.
CHAPTER NINE
T.J. pulled into the back yard of a house that looked like it had seen better days. Once he killed the engine of his vehicle, he hopped out and slammed the door shut behind him. He went up the short steps that led to the back door of the old house which he opened with ease. Te’Qui and Kesha exchanged glances as they thought that T.J. must have been using the decrepit house for quite some time. They were right too. You see, ever since T.J. had been in the streets sticking shit up, he’d been using the house to count up the hauls from his various licks. The place had become sort of like a second home to him. Hell, he’d slept there quite a few times when he was down on his luck.
The backdoor of the house squeaked as T.J. pushed it open. He looked around and then stood aside, allowing Te’Qui and Keisha to enter. As soon as they crossed the threshold into the kitchen, they took in the scenery. The kitchen was dilapidated and decrepit. There was dust on its floors, walls and ceilings. There were also cobwebs high up in every corner, and spiders crawling on them. A couple of rats ran past the entrance of the kitchen which led into the living room. The living room was in the same shape as the kitchen. Only there were large holes in its floor. The holes were big enough to fit a human though. There was a big ass hole in the ceiling, too. In fact, there was a rusted pipe in that hole and it was dripping brown water.
“Hold on. You can’t see mucha shit in here. Limme hit these lights,” T.J. told the couple as they sat the pillowcases of dead presidents on the kitchen table. He then went around the kitchen lighting burned out wax candles, which left a golden orange light shining on everyone present.
“This yo’ second home or some shit?” Te’Qui asked with furrowed brows.
“Hell naw! Sometimes I stash shit here ‘til I get a chance to fence ‘em, but that’s it. A nigga can’t keep hot shit where he lay his head at.” T.J. told him.
Te’Qui nodded his understanding. He knew of mad niggaz that got popped with stolen goods in their house.
“Unh! Lil’ dirty mothafucka!” T.J.’s face balled up as he stomped something with all his might, causing it to make a squished noise. As soon as Te’Qui and Keisha heard that squishing sound, their foreheads wrinkled and they looked down at T.J.’s sneaker. When he removed his sneaker from what he’d squashed they saw a fat ass rat lying on its side. The filthy fucker was lying in its own blood, twitching.
“Ewww,” Keisha hooked her arm with Te’Qui’s arm, disgusted by the sight of the dead rodent.
“Adios, amigo,” T.J. kicked the dead rat out of the kitchen and into the living room, where it disappeared through one of the holes in the floor.
“Yo’, good lookin’ out on savin’ me and wifey back there, my nigga.” Te’Qui slapped hands with T.J., pulling him in and patting him on his back.
“Don’t mention it. You my nigga. I’m down for you, like you down for me.” T.J. told him.
“Fa sho’.” Te’Qui replied.
“You okay, Kesha?” T.J.’s forehead creased as he looked to his homeboy’s fiancée.
“Yeah, I’m good.” A teary eyed Kesha lowered her head and sniffled. Right then, teardrops fell from her eyes and she wiped them away with the back of her hand.
Seeing that his woman was weeping brought great concern to Te’Qui. His forehead crinkled and he hugged her, rubbing her back soothingly.
“You okay, bae?” Te’Qui asked her.
“No. No, I’m not.” Kesha spoke honestly this time, voice cracking with emotions. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, bae.”
Te’Qui tilted
Kesha’s chin upward so she’d be looking him in his eyes. “Sorry about what, momma?” his brows wrinkled.
“This!” T.J. said to him.
When Te’Qui turned around and saw T.J. with one of his .9mms pointed at him, his eyes got big and his jaw dropped.
“Oh, shit, Kesha, move!” Te’Qui shoved Kesha away from him. He went to pull his banga from his waistline, but by then, T.J. was already shooting him. A bullet ripped through his gut and he threw his head back, wincing. He hit the carpeted floor and lay halfway out of the kitchen. He bawled in pain as T.J. approached him, shadow looming over him. He leaned down and pulled the banga from out of Te’Qui’s waistline and slid it into his waistline.
T.J. stared down at Te’Qui as he continuously winced. He watched as he touched his wound and his fingers came away bloody.
“What the-what the fuck you shoot me for?” Te’Qui asked in a pained voice, wincing.
Tiaz Petty. Does that name ring a bell?” T.J. asked.
“Yeah, I know Tiaz. I told you about ‘em, remember? He’s dead now, so what the fuck does he have to do with this?”
“Meet his son, T.J. Tiaz Junior,” he pointed his gun at his chest. “And his daughter, Kesha; my paternal twin.” he pointed his banga at his sister who had tears cascading down her face.
When he revealed this, Te’Qui’s eyes became as big as saucers and his mouth hung open. He was shocked. He couldn’t believe the revelation that had been dropped on him, but he knew it had to have been true for things to have gotten to this point.
“You know, I started to just smoke yo’ ass and get it over with, but baby sis convinced me to do otherwise. She told me about the money you had in yo’ safe. She said you damn near hadda million dollas.”
Te’Qui looked to Kesha with hurt in his eyes. Her disloyalty cut him deep. Kesha bowed her head. She knew she’d done some foul ass shit to him and she couldn’t bear to look him in the face.
“See, I figured I coulda just tortured you to get chu to open that safe, but she told me you were way too fucking stubborn to do that. She said you’d die before you gave up one red cent of that money, and after kicking it witchu for a while, I had to agree.”