CHAPTER 2
Wayne and Jayron were knocked out on Sunday night as well. In many ways, this first seven days being out of prison were like starting a new life to Jayron. Everything felt different but very much the same. He’d gotten to see nearly all of his cousins as some of his family came in from Indianapolis and Columbus. Most of all, however, Jayron was grateful that his cousin Wayne was going to let him stay with him. This was not only because the two were cousins, but also because Wayne was good for getting some quality chicks to come through. Last night had proven that was still the case, as Jayron was pleasantly surprised by two chicks coming to the door when he and Wayne had been chilling and smoking. One chick, Reesa, was for Wayne. The other, Mina, who had a butt so big that Jayron struggled to believe that it was real, was for Jayron. After several years of being behind bars with only other dudes, Jayron was like a kid in a candy store. He lavished himself in the big butt that was Mina, banging her as hard as he could with the years of frustration.
Reese and Mina had wound up going home late last night. This left Wayne asleep in his bed, with nothing but a sheet covering his body. Jayron had passed out on the couch, wearing only his boxers. As the sun slowly rose that cold, Chicago morning, Jayron had somewhat drifted in and out of sleep. Little did he know that a black SUV sitting just outside of the window was about to wake him up in a way he’d never imagined.
***
Dante pulled up outside of Wayne’s house at 9:30 that Monday morning. He looked over at his cousin Edric, who many people said looked like a younger version of Terrance Howard. It was hard to believe that he and Dante were cousins because the two looked nothing alike, as Dante was tall and thin. Dante also had a rough edge about him. Beside the years off and on that he’d spent in prison, he also loved to fight on the street. All anyone had to do was say the wrong thing to him and he would go in right then and there.
Dante looked over at Edric. “Nigga, is you sure this is the house?” he asked, his voice deep and scratchy, obviously from years of smoking cigarettes, among other things. “Don’t have me goin’ up in here and fuckin’ with no little children and shit just a couple days before Christmas. Land my ass back in prison and you gon’ wish you wasn’t on the outside world.”
“Nigga, when have I ever led you wrong?” Edric asked. “Huh?”
Dante smiled, thinking that Edric made a good point. The two had been friends for as long as either of them could remember. Their mothers had been best friends growing up, their relationship straining as the two of them aged. Now, however, Edric and Dante had managed to stay tight. They did all of their dirt together, leaving no doubt in detectives’ minds downtown that the two were literally as thick as thieves.
“Yeah, yeah,” Dante said, glancing over at Edric. “I ain’t try’na kill nobody no way. I just wanna find out where this Breon nigga is. How you even come up with this Wayne nigga? You say I used to know him but I just don’t know.”
“I think he used to go by something else,” Edric said, pulling his gun out of his pocket. He checked to make sure it was loaded. “And yeah, you know this nigga. You prolly know his face when you see him. He Breon’s cousin’ and shit. Always stay with the chicks and shit. Well, him and Breon do both, I guess. They had some get together over here that I was hearin’ about.”
“And you sure you heard from somebody that would actually know?” Dante asked.
“Hmm, hmm,” Edric said. “I know some savages who stay over around here and they was talkin’ about how everybody know Wayne and this and that. Some of them knew Breon too, but they can’t tell you shit about him ‘cause he don’t come around a whole lot. But I bet you that this nigga Wayne know.”
“Hmm, hmm,” Dante said. “’Cause I’mma find that nigga, Breon.”
Quickly, Dante’s mind flashed back to when he and Breon had been in high school together. They’d been alright as friends. However, they were both selling that good stuff in the same part of the city—dealing with some suburban white kids. What Dante didn’t like—what scorned him forever when it came to Breon—was the fact that Breon wasn’t even cool enough with him to say that the area had been getting a lot of undercover police action going on. Breon disappeared while Dante was out there, dealing with the white kids and being totally blind about it. Sooner or later, his entire life changed when he was arrested. Down the line, a judge sentenced him to a few years in prison with probation to follow. Since then, Dante had held a bit of a grudge when it came to Breon. Hearing that he’d smashed one of his chick’s right after he went away only poured salt on the wound.
“Come on then, nigga,” Dante said, pushing his car door open. “Let’s make this quick, okay.”
The two men met on the sidewalk and headed toward Wayne’s house. “You go around back,” Dante said, feeling the sides of his face sting when the wind blew.
With red nostrils, Edric looked at Dante and nodded. “Okay,” he said. “And you gon’ go up through the front?”
“Right,” Dante said. “When you hear me bust in the front door, I want you to come in the back. Stay in the kitchen or wherever the back door open to until you know I got the shit on lock down. I’mma lure whoever in there to come downstairs and they not gon’ think that we came through two doors.” Dante thought of the tactics that he used to use with his buddies when they would go to nice suburbs far out in Indiana and do home invasions. The only difference was that white neighborhoods had far fewer police to watch out for, as the cops were all in the inner cities.
Moving swiftly, the two men did their part. Dante walked up to the front door and waited, giving Edric a little bit of time to get around to the back of the house. He could hear him jumping over a chain link fence, then more snow crunching beneath his feet, slowly fading away. Once the footsteps ceased, Dante checked the door. Of course, with this being the south side of Chicago, it wasn’t open. After looking up and down the block for a minute, he saw the coast was clear. He quickly stepped back and kicked as hard as he could. The first kick was not enough, so he kicked again. His legs, which were all muscle, were all he needed. With the second kick, the front door swung open. With his gun up in the air, Dante stepped into the house. He pushed the door closed behind him.
Years in prison had given Jayron some instincts that he’d probably never lose for as long as he lived. No sooner than he’d heard the second kick, the front door had swung open. Cold, winter air swooshed into the living room as he jumped up off of the couch. Before he could even step far enough back to get into the dining room, he’d frozen in his spot. At that very moment, the back door had busted in as well. He didn’t know which way to look.
“Who the fuck is you?” Jayron asked, standing there in nothing but his boxers.
“Shut the fuck up,” Dante said, making sure the front door was as closed as it could be. “Who the fuck is you?”
With his chest pumping, Jayron looked Dante up and down. He then looked back into the kitchen, seeing that another guy was standing in there. With his lips tight, he hesitated to answer. Dante noticed and pointed his gun at Jayron, waving it about. “What the fuck is your problem, nigga?” he asked. “You don’t speak English or some shit? I asked you who the fuck is you? I’m lookin’ for this nigga named Wayne?”
Before Jayron could answer, Dante looked past him and at Edric. He nodded, letting Edric know to stay right there. Edric shook his head, letting Dante know that the guy who was standing in front of him was not Breon’s cousin Wayne.
Jayron simply shook his head, knowing that he wasn’t just going to give his friend up like that. However, it didn’t take long for them to hear the thumping of feet upstairs. Wayne was jumping out of bed, as he’d been in a deep sleep from the honey he’d smashed relentlessly in his bed last night.
Dante smiled, glancing toward the steps in such a way that made sure Edric saw him. He stood there, looking at Jayron. “Say somethin’ nigga and I swear I will blow your fuckin’ head off right here in this nice livin’ room and shit, okay?
” he said.
Jayron stood there, not wanting to nod or shake his head. Instead, he opted for silence. He only wished that he could warn Wayne about coming downstairs;he had to bite his lip to keep the words from spilling out.
Dante watched as Wayne slowly made his way downstairs. As soon as Wayne had come far enough down to see what was going on, he’d seen that Jayron was being held at gunpoint by some nigga he didn’t recognize right away. Packing his own heat, dressed in only some blue plaid pajama pants, Wayne quickly pulled his gun up. His arm muscles flexed as he tried his hardest to not pull the trigger.
“Who the fuck is you, nigga?” Wayne asked, speaking loudly. “What the fuck you doin’ in my house?”
“Put the gun down, nigga!” Dante said, turning the gun toward the staircase. It would be a hard shot, considering the dining room was a large space. However, Dante felt he could fire quick enough to pump a bullet into this guy on the steps before he could do the same to him. “Put that shit down, nigga. You already outnumbered and shit with the heat, so let’s just not embarrass ourselves, okay?”
Wayne looked around the dining room and into the living room, trying to make some sense of what he’d just heard. Seeing that confused look on his face, Dante pointed at the kitchen doorway. “Nigga, you got two guns that got bullets waiting for you in this house right now,” he said. “You can put your gun down and make this shit easy or,” Dante paused to point his gun directly at the guy on the steps while Edric stepped into the dining room, “we can shoot both y'all niggas at the same time.”
Just then, Wayne noticed the guy in the kitchen doorway. Resentfully, his opened his hands, holding his gun toward the ceiling.
“That’s good, nigga,” Dante said. “Put the gun down on the ground and shit and we not gon’ have to worry about nothin’.”
“Nigga, what you want?” Wayne asked, not putting his gun down. He searched his memory for the two faces that were now standing in his house. Something told him that he knew the two of them; however, with all of the people he knew in Chicago, the possible names to match these faces would take a while, and they would be twice as hard to come up with considering it was early in the morning and the home invasion came totally out of nowhere.
Realizing that his back was against the wall in so many ways, Wayne slowly put his gun on the ground. Edric quickly stepped over and grabbed it. Once Dante had seen Edric safely grab the gun, he directed the two guys to stand against the dining room table.
“Which one of y’all niggas is Wayne?” Dante asked, looking at their hard faces. He then looked at Jayron, seeing that something was up with him. He looked as if he’d just gone through something, as well as looking a little underweight. “Naw, nigga, I don’t think it’s you,” he said. “I can look at you and tell you just got out.” Dante then turned to the other guy. “Nigga, is you Wayne?”
“Yeah, why?” Wayne asked, his fists balled at his side as he tried his hardest to hide his trembling. “Who wanna know?”
Dante chuckled before using his free hand to reach out and slap Wayne so hard across the face that his head turned to the side. “I do, nigga,” he said. “Now, what?” He paused for a minute to look at Edric and get the okay, knowing for sure that this dude was indeed Breon’s cousin. “So, you Breon’s cousin? I’m lookin’ for that nigga? Where he stay?”
“Breon?” Wayne asked, surprised. “Why you lookin’ for Breon? Look, nigga. I don’t know what whoever told you and shit, but Breon don’t even be out in these streets all that much like that.”
“Nigga, shut the fuck up with all that,” Dante said. “I ain’t come here to ask you for his resume and shit. I asked you where he at and shit. I need to see that nigga over some unfinished business.”
“Nigga, fuck you,” Wayne said, turning to the side and feeling a little defiant. “I don’t know where that nigga is. I mean, yeah, he my cousin and shit, but I don’t know where he stay.”
Dante looked at Wayne and knew right away that he was lying. “Oh, yeah?” he said. “You a nigga in Chicago and don’t know where your cousin stay? Nigga, it’s too early in the morning and too fuckin’ cold outside for you to get up and tell’ these dumb ass lies to my face.” Dante used the gun to push Wayne’s head by pressing it into his forehead. “Nigga, tell me where the fuck the nigga stay so I can go talk to him and shit about a couple things.”
Standing with a completely straight back, Wayne held his head high. He looked into Dante’s eyes with the coldest stare possible. “Nigga, fuck you,” he said.
Dante leaned back, looking away and chuckling. If he didn’t need information out of this guy, he would have already put a bullet into his body. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time. However, Dante didn’t mind having to extract information out of someone if need be.
“Okay,” Dante said, nodding his head. “You wanna play dumb, I’mma show you what dumb niggas get.” He looked over at Edric. “Come over here real quick.”
Smiling, Edric walked around the dining room table. He checked out of the front door, seeing that no police cars had pulled up, before going to stand right next to Dante. Dante looked at him then to Wayne. “This nigga really don’t get it, do he?” he asked, rhetorically. “I guess he think I’m playin’ and shit.”
Edric knew exactly what was about to happen. He watched as Dante held the gun right to Wayne’s forehead. “Turn around or I’mma kill this nigga right here.”
“Man, why the fuck you doin’ this shit?” Wayne asked, confused about what was going to happen.
“You wanna lie and shit when you could just tell me what I need to know, okay then?” Dante said. “Nigga, turn the fuck around before I lay both y’all dumb lookin’ niggas out.”
Reluctantly, Wayne turned around. Dante told Edric to stay on the other guy, Jayron, as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. He turned on the video camera and handed it to Jayron. “Hold this shit, or you gon’ be the first to go,” Dante said. “Fuck up and I swear to God nigga, you gon’ wish you’d been in prison where at least you’d be safe from me.”
Jayron held the phone, pressing his lips together tightly. He nodded, wondering what was about to happen. He watched as Dante slid his belt off and curled it, with both ends in his hands. Dante turned to Wayne. “Nigga, pull them pajama pants down and shit.”
Knowing what was going to happen, having glanced back and seen Dante pull his belt out of his pants and hold it like a parent about to beat his child, his looked up at the ceiling. “Nigga, you fucked up in the head,” he said. “You fuckin’ fucked up. Why is you doin’ this? I’m not tellin’ you where Breon is ‘cause I don’t know.”
“Well, I’mma help you remember then,” Dante said. “Lean over on the table and grab the other end.”
Everybody in the room watched as Wayne did just that. Edric shook his head, having seen this before. He snickered under his breath, feeling sorry that this dude Wayne clearly hadn’t heard about Dante. Dante simply wasn’t the kind of guy you held information back from. After Dante made sure that Jayron held the camera steady, and that it was still running, he used all of his force to slam the belt into Wayne’s ass cheeks. Wayne tried to tense up to hide the pain he was feeling from the sharp snaps, but it was too much. One after another, each feeling harder than the one that had come before, Dante slammed the belt into Wayne’s backside. He was relentless, as if he’d been holding on to anger for quite some time.
“Nigga, I can do this shit all day,” Dante yelled. He then noticed how Wayne was starting to lean up. He pressed his gun into his back. “Lean up and I swear I’mma shot you.”
With tears starting to roll down Wayne’s face, and his body getting numb and sore from the lashings, Dante continued for the next couple minutes. The only noises that could be heard in the house were Dante slashing Wayne across his ass with the belt and Wayne grunting, feeling utterly humiliated and embarrassed, especially because it was all on camera.
“How long you want this to go on for, huh?” Dante asked.
He then slashed Wayne several times in a row, now seeing deep whiplashes on the man’s butt. “Huh, nigga?” He slashed his back, blood now starting to show on the surface. “I got all fuckin’ day and me and my nigga here can take turns.”
The words fuck you slipped out of Wayne’s mouth. He then grunted as the pain was only getting greater from Dante’s slashing. Gripping the other side of the table, he decided that he just couldn’t take it anymore. He’d lost count of how many slashes he’d taken, the number probably reaching into the thirties at this point. His face was covered in tears.
“I don’t know his address, I don’t know his address!” Wayne yelled.
To Wayne’s relief, Dante stopped with the slashing. Breathing heavily, he smiled. “Okay?” he said. “So?”
“But he not gon’ be at home no way,” Wayne said. “I only been over there a couple times, so I really don’t know where it is so I can’t tell you, nigga.” He sniffed, cursing at how raw his ass felt. “But he gon’ be at work, anyway.”
“Where the nigga work?” Dante asked. “And tell me the wrong place and see what happen to your ass and shit next time, nigga. Where the nigga work?”
Wayne groaned, hating that he was about to give up the information. He knew that if Breon knew, he would want him to do whatever he needed to do to keep himself safe. “He work at Johnson and Pearl,” he responded. “The shipping company over in Chinatown. He work over there and shit, during the second shift and shit I think. I swear that’s all I know, nigga. That’s all I know.”
Dante slashed Wayne a dozen more times, causing the grown man to burst out in tears. Before he left, he grabbed his cell phone back from Jayron. He and Edric looked at the two men as they backed toward the door. Wayne pulled his pants up, struggling to move. “Say shit about this to any cops or anything,” Dante said. “And you can best believe this shit is gon’ be on the internet, feel me?”
Wrath of a Side Chick 2: A Chicago Hood Drama (Side Chick's Wrath) Page 2