by Cash
I took a few weary steps over to my sister’s casket and for the first time in my life, my knees buckled. Placing both hands atop of her casket, I pulled myself up. I laid my head on the closed lid and began to weep.
“Laquanda, bruh-bruh—is so—sorry.” I bawled shamelessly.
I had slipped badly. I should’ve never discounted the car that tailed me that night. Guilt overtook me, causing me to sink to my knees under the weight of it. My chest heaved as I sobbed.
I felt a pair of delicate hands on each arm, helping me to my feet. “It’s going to be okay, bae.” Kamora comforted me. Tears poured from her eyes and she wrapped her arms around me.
“I know your pain,” added Inez. She laid my head on her shoulder like a loving mother would.
The mournful melody playing on the organ brought an outburst of cries from behind me.
A familiar voice shouted from the rear of the church. “It’s your fuckin’ fault they’re dead! Momma and my baby ain’t never done nothing to nobody. Whoever did that to them was after you! I can’t stand your ugly ass!” Shan stood in the doorway of the church, looking jacked up.
As she stormed down to the stage where I stood, I could see her dress was old and soiled. The heels of her shoes leaned to the side and her hair was slicked down with so much grease it looked like a shiny skully.
“Let me at that muthafucka!” she yelled, obviously forgetting she was disrespecting the church. Inez held her back. “Bitch, get your hands off of me!” she spat. Sharp gasps from the pews spread like wildfire.
“If this was any other place and time I would do to you what I should’ve done a long time ago.” I stepped right up in Shan’s face.
Since she couldn’t get to me, she turned her crack induced fury on Inez and cursed her like only a project chick could.
Inez said nothing back. But Shan got too bold when she slapped Inez in the face.
The two of them tore up the stage, and there was nothing I could do to stop them.
“It’s a shame how black folks disrespect the dead,” one woman said.
“Sister Poochie would be so embarrassed if she was here to see this,” the neighbor added.
Hearing that, I stepped between Shan and Inez and forcefully separated them.
“Get the fuck off of me!” Shan spat.
I knew there was no calming her so I turned and appealed to Inez. “Y’all can’t do that here. Please!”
“You’re right,” she agreed. She shot Shan a cold stare and then she turned and quietly walked out of the church.
All I could do was express my apology to Big Ma and Laquanda in a silent but tearful prayer.
The service continued without further incident. When out concluded, we all filed out to proceed to the cemetery.
At the gravesite when they lowered the caskets into the earth and the preacher announced, “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.” He didn’t just bury Big Ma and Laquanda. Along with them he buried whatever bit of soul I had left.
The streets of the A were about to see the repercussions of turning a young nigga heartless.
For two weeks after we buried Big Ma and Laquanda, all I did was get high and drunk. Ava finally got fed up with the drinking and called Inez over. The two of them poured out every bottle of liquor I had in the house and flushed a half pound of Kush down the toilet.
“Are you giving up?” Inez challenged me.
“Nawl, just let me grieve in my own way and I’ll be a’ight. You don’t know how I’m feelin’.”
“Oh, I don’t? Do you know how many times I wanted to give up when they killed your father? Every day I thought about taking my own life to end the pain. But I knew Youngblood wouldn’t have respected that.” She picked my chain up of off the coffee table and held it up close to my face. “You gotta rep this no matter what. Sad as it is to say, sometimes that battle doesn’t go in your favor. You’ve made a lot of families shed tears over their loved ones. It was your time to shed some. I’m sorry that I happened like it did, but let this be a lesson to you not to ever leave an enemy breathing or they’ll come back to haunt you.”
I covered my head with a pillow to block out the raw truth of her words because they made me face the guilt I felt over exposing Big Ma and Laquanda to danger that ultimately cost both of them their lives.
“Ava, baby, will you please allow me some privacy with Lil T? I need to tell his muthafuckin’ ass some things he might not want you to hear,” Inez said.
“Okay, I’m going to run to the store. I’ll be back in thirty minutes. Is that long enough?” replied Ava.
“That’s plenty,” said Inez.
“I’ll be back, Lil T. Can I bring you something?” asked Ava.
“Nawl, I’m good, shawdy,” I mumbled from up under the pillow.
As soon as Ava left, Inez turned straight gangsta on me. She was something like I had never seen her before. She snatched the pillow from me and screamed, “Get your ass up and go straighten out your business! While you’re over here wallowing in grief, the nigga that killed Big Ma and Laquanda is out there pounding his muthafuckin’ chest in victory. I know the shit hurts, but you got to make him hurt worse. Your father didn’t crumble when niggas killed his sister to get at him. He was beyond crushed because Toi was his heart. But he still did what he had to do. And he didn’t stop until a lot of families were crying. If you’re not built the same way, then take the chain from around your neck and give me my man’s ashes.”
I saw fire in her eyes.
She searched the room until she found two of my bangers. She shoved them toward me and demanded to know, “What the fuck are you going to do? Are you Youngblood’s son or are you your mama’s boy?”
I took the nine and the four-fifth from her and exclaimed, “Like father, like son.”
“Well, prove it! Every time I turned on the news somebody better be getting zipped up in a body bag or you stay the hell out of my face.” She stormed out without awaiting a reply. I had nothing to say anyway. My bangers were gonna talk for me.
By the time Ava returned, I was in beast mode. Lying out on the bed was the entire cache of weapons I had accumulated over the past two years.
I had two Tec 11’s, two yoppas, a Calic, a street sweeper, an AR-15 with an infrared scope attached and a dumb assortment of semi-automatic hand guns.
Ava looked at the deadly artillery and then looked up at me. I studied the windows to her soul to see if there was fear. What I saw was the soul of a rider. I pulled her into my arms.
“Are you my bitch?” I asked her flat out.
“Yes, Trouble, I’m your bitch,” she answered.
“For how long?”
“Infinity.”
“A’ight, from now on don’t let no other nigga or bitch touch what’s mine. You understand me?” I pulled her into my arms and nuzzled my nose in her hair.
“Yes, and I haven’t since we’ve been kicking it like this.”
“That’s what’s up. Now, not only must you keep the pussy on lock, you gotta padlock your mouth. What you see me do must go to the grave with you. If po-po ever snatch you up, don’t say or answer shit. Just ask to call your attorney. And if a nigga ever snatch you up and try to force you to call me, don’t do it because he’s gonna kill you anyway. If that scares you, now is the time to fall back.” I tilted her head up and stared deeply into her eyes.
“I’m not afraid, daddy.”
“A’ight, gimme some tongue and then sit over there out of the way. Niggas are about to be shown why they call me Trouble.” I kissed Ava.
She sat down in the overstuffed chair adjacent to the bed and watched me check each of my weapons to make sure they were ready for the war I was gonna bring to my enemies.
“I’m going all out, shawdy,” I said as I aimed the AR-15 at the wall and looked through the scope. Everything on it seemed to be in fine order, so I set it down and picked up the four-fifth.
“You’re supposed to go all out because what they did to your grandmother and yo
ur little sister was not called for,” replied Ava.
“I begged Big Ma to move. Something kept telling me that somebody would try to get at me through her. But if Shan hadn’t done that foul shit, none of this would’ve happened because I never would’ve taken Laquanda over to Big Ma’s house that night.”
Ava just listened. I guess she was uncomfortable speaking against my mother. But the truth is the truth.
“Don’t get it wrong,” I said, “I know that it was my beef that came to Big Ma’s front door, and that’s a burden I’ll carry on my shoulders until they toss dirt on my casket. But I wouldn’t have been slippin’ if Shan would’na tried to prostitute Laquanda that night. I swear, I should go kill that crack head bitch.”
“Baby, I don’t like to hear you talk about your mother like that. Why don’t you try to get her some help?”
My head snapped up from what I was doing and my nostrils flared. “Is you stupid? If that bitch was on fire, I wouldn’t piss on her! She’s the reason my pop got executed. She helped those crackers convict him and put him to sleep like they do stray dogs! What did my pop ever do to that bitch but stop fuckin’ with her grimy ass after she fucked his mans? And what type of mother would sell her daughter to a muthafucka for some crack? Hell no, that bird ass, gutter trash ho ain’t nothin’ to me!”
Ava had no comeback.
My chest heaved rapidly and my blood was boiling. “Where’s my cell phone?”
Ava found it up under the bed.
I unlocked it and checked my text messages. Then I checked my voicemail. You have four new messages.
First message: Yo, bruh, I’m just lettin’ you know when it’s time to ride, I got your back. Get at me.
I recognized Criminal’s voice.
Next message: Bae, I’ll always love you. Please don’t forget that. I know you’re hurting right now and so am I. I loved Big Ma and Laquanda, too. If you need me for anything you know where I’m at. And if you still want me to handle that business I started on with Sharena, I’m ready. She’s been calling every—
I clicked to the next message. Fuck that! Kamora had shown a flaw. Her word wasn’t platinum.
The third voicemail was from Swag asking if I could call him. He claimed that it was very important. But I would have to get at him later. Right now, I was on that other shit.
Next message: Sometimes the hunter becomes the hunted. I warned your reckless, young ass to fall back. Never forget that you got family, too. Now go visit their graves and fall back off me before I send some more pain at your ass.
That voice belonged to Zeke! I tried to climb through the phone to get to his ass. “Bitch ass nigga, quit hiding and come out on the front line! Talkin’ that killa shit when the whole A knows that money is your only power. When was the last time your tool went bang? You ain’t no killa. You pay niggas to protect your thong!” I growled into the phone.” Spit was flying everywhere.
Of course, Zeke wasn’t on the other end. I would have to hit the streets and find his bitch ass, and it wasn’t going to be easy. But in my rage, somebody was dying tonight! I strapped up.
“Don’t go to the club tonight. I want you here when I get back,” I said to Ava.
As I left out of the door, I already knew whose life I was gonna take.
CHAPTER 21
I sent a powerful kick to the center of the apartment door, and it went flying in and slammed against the wall. I stepped through the door with both my gloved hands around the four-fifth. Criminal was on my heels with his semi-automatic banger out and ready to cough at the squeeze of the trigger. Outside in the car was one of his GF homies.
The black scarves around Criminal’s and my face told the surprised nigga on the couch what the business was.
“I got dope and money. Y’all can have it all, just don’t kill me,” he immediately offered.
“Where’s the shit at?” I barked while keeping a close eye on him. There was always the chance he had a banger under the pillow on the couch.
“Everything is outside in the trunk of my car.”
Boc!
I shot him in the shoulder.
“Don’t play with me! Where’s the shit at? If you lie to me again I’ma spray your thoughts all over that wall.”
“Okay! The money is in the linen closet in the bathroom, inside a purple and black pillowcase. Ooh! Aw shit, my shoulder is burning like fuck!”
“Tough luck! Where’s the work?”
“Under the kitchen sink. There are two blocks and a couple four ways. Man, don’t wipe me out, please. I just got out of prison a few months ago, and I’m tryna get on my feet.”
“Yo, bruh, who is this nigga talking to?” I asked Criminal.
Criminal hunched his shoulders.
“Go, check it out. Be careful, somebody might be in the back,” I warned my nigga.
Five minutes later he returned with the work and the ducats.
“C’mon y’all, I’m a street nigga, too. Respect the hustle and leave me with something to bounce back with,” cried Trap. His voice was irritating the shit out of me.
“Did you leave my bitch anything to bounce back with?” I snarled.
“Who’s your bitch, fam?”
“Figure it out in your next life, nigga.” I spat and then popped three in his head.
I kept the money and gave Criminal and his man the work. When I got back to Ava’s, she was in bed watching The Real Housewives of Atlanta. I opened up the pillowcase and poured the stacks out on her legs.
“I keep my promises.”
“What’s this for?” she asked, looking puzzled.
“I collected from that nigga who shitted on you about that block. Count the bands and tell me how much it is.”
She unwrapped the rubber band from around a stack and began counting one bill at a time. “Hold up, hold up!” I stopped her. “You ain’t gotta do that. Trust, each one of those is $1,000. Just count the stacks, shawdy. Damn, you’re green as lettuce,” I joked.
“Leave me alone.” She feigned a pout and looked cute as hell doing so.
“You’re a pretty muthafucka.”
“Thank you.”
“Yeah, you’re my bitch,” I said.
“I sure am. I’m nobody’s but yours. And if you can find a better bitch than me, you better marry that ho.”
“Talk that shit, shawdy.” I chuckled.
“I’m just keeping it gangsta.”
“We’ll see,” I said.
Ava exclaimed, “You have forty-three stacks or bands. Whatever you want to call them. Forty-three thousand dollars.”
“Yep. Yep,” I remarked, satisfied. “You can have it all.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah, shawdy. I don’t want any of it. You got what I want inside those booty shorts. Stand up and take them off. I wanna see my bitch in her birthday suit.”
“Whatever you want, baby,” she purred demurely as she seductively stripped down to nothing but pussy, ass and titties.
That dark, pretty muthafucka had a fine body. Her pussy poked out from between her thighs like a sweet honeydew melon.
“Shawdy, you a bad ass bitch.”
Ava blushed.
“You wanna bend me over and fuck me?” she rasped.
“Yeah, shawdy, I wanna put my stamp on that pussy. Turn around and let me show you how boss my dick game is. I ain’t never fucked you like I’ma fuck you tonight.” I used the remote to click on the music.
Kem came on, completing the mood. Ava put her elbows on the dresser and tooted her ass up. I squatted down and spread her chocolate ass cheeks. Then I slowly ran my tongue from the rooter to the tooter.
I circled the opening to her brown eye with the tip of my tongue. Then I tenderly probed the inside. She began moaning and grinding her ass on my tongue. I was on some real, freaky shit tonight. I pushed my tongue as deep as it would go, then I jabbed it in and out.
“Ooh, baby, baby, baby. You’re fucking my head up,” she cried.
I ate that ass like a sweet potato pie.
“Put your dick in there,” she cooed.
“A’ight, you know I got a python. I’ma have your ass wearing a pamper like a 22-year-old baby.”
“You’ll have to go slow.” She coached.
I did as she wanted. I was slow and gentle, still she was hollering and screaming like the dick was splitting her in half and I had only gotten the head in so far. When I pushed deeper, Ava screamed and snatched the dick out of her ass. “What’s wrong, shawdy?” I laughed.
“Fuck that! Your dick too goddamn big. Fuck around and have my ass in the ER.”
“I told you, you couldn’t handle this shit. I’m not one of those lil’ dick niggas who be coming to the club. Lie down and give me some of that fat, wet pussy.”
“Anytime.” She smiled as she swept the money off the bed and onto the floor.
I woke up the next morning with Ava draped all over me. I climbed on top of her and gave her some of that fiyah, early morning dick. Then we took a shower together and fucked some more.
“My stuff is sore,” she groaned, while lotioning her body back in the bedroom.
“That’s what happens when you fuck with a G. Next time you better get one orgasm and call it a night. Because if you get greedy I’ma have you walking with a permanent limp around this bitch,” I boasted because I knew I had fucked her well.
I threw on my $800 True Religion jacket over the T-shirt I wore with my pop’s picture sewn across it. I was also rocking True Religion jeans and a new pair of Adidas. The four-fifth was on my waist and a nine was in the small of my back. It was time to hit the streets. I picked up my cell phone and saw ten missed calls from Swag. Damn, what’s so urgent? I wondered as I hit him up. He answered right away.
“Damn, lil’ nigga, what took you so long to hit me back? I’ve been tryna reach you all week,” he complained.
“I been going through some things since the funerals, but I’m good now. What’s the business?”
“I hate talking over phone, but I’m way out in LA, and this shit is too important to wait. Can you fly out here?”