The Circle: Dayvid

by Ty Marshall

  “Dayvid!” Droop said in fright. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked, seeing the same timorous look in Taj’s eyes as if she wanted to know the same time.

  “Heard you the man now,” Dayvid said as he stared coldly at Droop while continuing to bounce the sleeping little boy on his lap.

  “Nah G, you heard wrong,” he stated trying to sound convincing.

  “Let’s not make this get any uglier than it has to. But if you lie to me again, the sound of me blowing your baby moms head off is gonna wake your son up,” he promised then raised his gun sitting it on the table in front of him.

  Droop stared in his eyes trying to find any inkling of apprehension but found none. He knew Dayvid meant every word. His focus immediately shifted to staying alive and keeping his family that way as well. But he knew the fact that Dayvid wasn’t masked up didn’t bode well for their chances of survival.

  “I got bread but it ain’t here,” Droop said as Dayvid sat silent staring at him. “Not the type of bread I know you looking for,” Droop continued.

  Dayvid lifted the gun off the table and put it to Taj’s head. She tried to scream but the tape over her mouth wouldn’t let her. She was only able to manage a muffled cry as tears started running down her face.

  “I’m telling you the truth, I swear,” Droop begged. “I don’t live here, this is not my crib. Me and her are not together like that. I promise you.”

  Taj began shaking her head in agreement while continuing to pray and cry.

  “I could give you all my little bit of bread fam and you probably still gonna kill me and my baby moms,” Droop expressed. “Or I can put you on to a nigga with a lot more money than me and give you something I’m sure is worth more than money to you.”

  “Ain’t nothing worth more than money to me right now, so stop stalling before I put your son in the blender and make you sip him through a straw,” Dayvid barked.

  “Not even Nova?” Droop asked.

  “Whatchu say?”

  “I said is Nova worth more than money to you?”

  Just hearing her name made Dayvid’s heart begin to race in his chest. His palms dampened and beads of sweat formed on his brow. He moved his gun off of Taj and pointed at Droop again. “What you know about Nova?” he asked.

  “Promise me you’ll let us live and I’ll tell you,” Droop bargained.

  “I ain’t making no promises cuz’ you gonna tell me either way. You not really in the position to be making demands.”

  Droop assessed the situation and agreed with him. “I know where she is,” he stated. “She’s in DC. She fucking with my connect, a nigga named Saint. He getting it. He got a spot out here in the harbor but he be back and forth. You can kill two birds with one stone; get your girl and his money,” Droop purposed.

  “Yeah I know Saint, but ain’t no way Nova fucking with a nigga like that,” Dayvid proclaimed.

  “I swear on my son. Ask her,” he said pointing to Taj. “We just was with them at a party in DC.”

  “You scream you die,” Dayvid informed her before snatching the tape off her mouth.

  Taj let out a slight whimper from the sting of the tape being pulled off. “He is telling the truth. We were just with them both in DC at Bar 7. Please, he is telling you the truth. Don’t hurt my son please,” she begged.

  “I ain’t gonna hurt your son, Slim,” he said to her. “But I will take that little bit of bread you said you had here,” Dayvid told Droop. “And those house keys, just in case I gotta come back here if y’all not telling the truth. Oh and let me get your cell phone,” Dayvid said to Taj.

  ***

  “Oh my God,” Nova shouted as she collapsed onto Saint’s chest trying to catch her breath after another pleasure filled sex session. The two had been locked in the house for 3 days going at it like a bunch of teenagers, only breaking to eat and sleep. Saint’s latest weekend visit had turned into a week-long one and Nova was enjoying every moment, especially having a warm body to lay next to at night. She liked having Saint around and wished he would stay full time, something she contemplated mentioning to him but hadn’t yet. She wasn’t exactly sure if she wanted him to move in or just move to DC, either way she wanted more of his time.

  Saint ran his fingers through her hair as she laid on his chest, he too had felt her growing closer to him and could tell that she was looking to make more of their relationship. She was playing right into his hands and he continued to reel her in every chance he gets.

  “What you thinking about?” Nova asked looking up at him staring at the ceiling.

  “How these moments are too fleeting,” he said tugging at the emotions he knew she felt.

  “I was thinking the same thing,” she said feeling a sense of relief that he was feeling similar to her and that he had said it first.

  “I’m thinking about being in DC a little more, maybe permanently. I have a lot of things going on out here with my artist being here and my…” he let his voice tail off purposely.

  “Your what?” Nova asked wanting to know how he viewed her status in his life.

  “You know… you, my lady,” Saint said sounding like music to her ears.

  “Your lady? So you just claiming shit as your own now,” she teased.

  “You not mine? It’s not mine?” he asked sliding his hand between her legs and slipping his fingers in her still wet crevice.

  Nova moaned softly and kissed his bottom lip. She was ready to go another round.

  Saint relished in her quivering for his touch. I got this bitch right where I want her, he thought to himself, only to be interrupted by his phone ringing. Saint ignored it the first time but after it began ringing again, Nova told him to answer it as she jumped up from the bed.

  “I’m gonna go make us something to eat,” she said before walking her thick, naked body out the room.

  Saint looked at his phone. Seeing the familiar number on the screen, he quickly answered. “Yo Droop, what up?” he said into the phone only to be taken aback by the voice on the other end of the phone.

  “No Saint, this is Taj.”

  Saint sat up on the side of the bed. “The fuck you doing calling me from this nigga’s phone Taj? You trying to get us caught?” he asked. “What the fuck is you thinking?”

  “This ain’t that type of call baby,” she spoke softly into the phone. “You ain’t gonna be so worried about this nigga when I tell you how much of a snake he is,” she vented.

  “What you talking bout?” Saint said standing to his feet and walking over to the window.

  “This nigga Dayvid had me in here tied up and shit, holding my son Tyreke in his arms and all that. This nigga Droop walked in and panicked. He started giving you up to save his own ass.”

  “What? Dayvid who?” a confused Saint asked.

  “King Dayvid,” she confessed.

  “Hold up, slow down,” he told her. “King Dayvid is still alive?” he asked. Damn that nigga Pharaoh wasn’t lying, he thought.

  “Yes, and he had a gun to my head,” she started to cry thinking about how close she came to dying. “And my son’s head threatening to kill him,” she amped it. “And this bitch ass nigga Droop ain’t do shit. Just gave him you, told him all about you and his girl, Nova.”

  Saint immediately knew it was true. Taj was nowhere around when the two of them discussed Renee being Nova. This fucking nigga is alive, he thought to himself. And this python ass nigga Droop sent him at me, his mind was racing. “I’m gonna call you back, keep your phone close.”

  “That’s the thing, he took my phone,” Taj revealed as Saint banged on her.

  Saint rubbed both his hands over his head and down across his face, exhaling a deep breath. A giant sized monkey wrench was just thrown into his plan and he needed to think fast as to what he was gonna do.

  He was brought from his deep thought by the delicious smell of steak and eggs entering the room. Nova stood in front of him naked, holding a plate in one hand and a glass of juice in the other.


  “Damn ma, you make a nigga never want to leave,” Saint said looking her up and down. Her body is amazing, he thought to himself. “That food look good, I’m 'bout to tear that shit up. I’m starving.”

  “You just make sure you save some room for me,” she flirted shifting her hips back and forth before handing him his plate.

  “Oh, you know I got you,” he smiled.

  ***

  May 2012

  “Look at the car swerving back and forth,” Rain joked as she blew out a cloud of weed smoke. “Fallon bout to make that nigga crash.”

  “Chill slim, nobody wanna hear that shit,” Dayvid growled taking the weed out of her hand and hitting it. He didn’t want to think about what his sister might be doing in the truck a few car lengths in front of them. He was more concerned about the nigga with her or more importantly his drug stash and where he kept it.

  Fallon was riding with Saint, a hustler from New York, who had recently set up shop in Baltimore and was moving heavy weight along with his out of town crew. Every chick in the city wanted to be the first one to cuff the new money getting nigga with the New York plates. It was like a badge of honor amongst the sack chasers. Fallon had more game than most. She brought Saint to her, acting uninterested which only made him pursue her harder. All part of the plan that Dayvid and Rain had put together; Saint was marked from the jump.

  “Call Autumn,” Dayvid said.

  Rain dialed and waited for her baby sister to pick up, then passed the phone to him.

  “Hello,” Autumn answered.

  “We ready, make it happen,” he instructed.

  “Ok.”

  Autumn hung up and stood up off the bed, the whole time keeping her gun trained on the bounded and gagged man in a chair in the middle of the motel room. She calmly approached him and placed her gun to the side of his head. “It’s showtime,” she said. “Remember we know where ya mother, ya grandmother and ya baby mother stay,” she threatened as she removed his gag. Autumn picked the man’s phone up, dialed a number and placed it to his ear.

  Saint moaned lightly as Fallon used her mouth to please him. The more he squirmed the harder she went, taking him deeper into her mouth until he could feel the back of her throat. Fallon was a super freak and he loved it. Saint’s phone lighting up and buzzing didn’t stop her. Fallon never broke her up and down motion as he reached to answer his phone.

  “Yo,” he said.

  “Yo what up Saint, this Run from the Westside,” the voice on the other end of the phone said.

  “What’s good my nigga?”

  “Same shit, different toilet, I can’t call it. But it’s that time, I need to see you,” Run said letting him know he needed to re-up.

  “Whatchu talkin?” Saint asked.

  “The usual,” Run informed him.

  “Bet, I’ll be at you in a few,” Saint said hanging up the phone.

  “Yo, I gotta make a stop real quick,” Saint told Fallon as she stopped and sat up in her seat. “Then I promise, no more interruptions the rest of the night, just me and you,” he charmed.

  “Yeah, whatever,” Fallon pouted, pretending to be upset.

  Dayvid made sure to stay a few cars back and not to follow the black truck too closely. He didn’t want to risk fucking up the lick but more importantly he didn’t want to put his sister in anymore danger than she already was. He knew Fallon could handle herself but the quicker this was over the better. Seeing the truck’s blinker come on and the vehicle switch lanes, Dayvid followed suit and merged onto the highway behind them.

  Exiting the highway Dayvid had an intense look on his face watching Saint’s truck pull into a U-Haul self-storage and stop at the gate.

  “C’mon Fallon, don’t fuck this up,” he voiced his concern.

  “She got it,” Rain reassured him as they watched Saint’s reach his arm out the window and dial in the code.

  “7498#,” Fallon memorized to herself, watching out the corner of her eye while pretending to be on Twitter. She typed it into her phone and pressed send as they drove through the gate.

  Saint stopped the truck in front of building 39 and cut off the engine. “I’ll be right back,” he said reaching in the backseat retrieving a blue duffle bag.

  Dayvid looked down at his phone and back up as he punched in the gate code then cut his lights off as he entered the property. Slowly navigating through the storage place, he turned the corner and spotted Saint’s truck. Dayvid threw it in park, cut off the engine and him and Rain quickly jumped out with their guns in hand.

  Saint stepped out the storage unit and began lowering the door when he heard the familiar sound of guns being cocked. He immediately knew what was happening. “Fuck,” he whispered to himself.

  “Don’t close up shop just yet slim,” Dayvid instructed.

  Saint turned to see himself surrounded by all three Porters with guns drawn. He stared at Fallon with hatred burning in his eyes, wanting to put a bullet right between her eyes. “You fucking grimy bitch,” he mumbled, only to feel Dayvid’s gun hit him in the face opening up a large gash under his eye. “Arrgh.”

  “Who the fuck you calling a bitch, bitch nigga,” Dayvid barked as he grabbed him and forced his gun into his mouth. “Say that shit again!”

  “Chill D, let’s get what we came for and get the fuck outta here, fuck this nigga,” Rain said as she placed her hand on his shoulder trying to calm him down and refocus him. “Fallon go pull the car around,” she yelled.

  Rain lifted the door and Dayvid pushed a bloodied Saint back into the storage unit. The two siblings were taken aback at the amount of bricks of coke inside; they were stacked up almost to the ceiling looking like a white wall. They had underestimated Saint, he was holding enough cocaine to flood the city a few times over.

  “Gotdamn,” Rain blurted out saying what they both were thinking.

  “Get on your knees and put your hands behind ya back,” Dayvid instructed Saint, pressing his gun to the back of his head.

  Saint did as he was told as Rain quickly used zip ties on his hands and feet to subdue him. The Porters then proceeded to empty the entire unit out.

  When they were done Dayvid walked over to Saint, who was laid out on the floor and pointed his gun down at him. “Consider this a warning. Get out of Baltimore. If I see you again, I’ma put a bullet in your head,” then he turned and exited the empty unit leaving Saint inside. “Don’t worry somebody should be here in the morning to let you out,” he said as he lowered the door and pad locked it.

  Saint watched as the room went dark.

  ***

  Saint rolled over and stretched his body trying to work the soreness from his legs. Sex with Nova was like a workout. Her sex drive was unmatched by any woman he had ever been with before. I see why this nigga kept this bitch around, he said to himself, thinking about their last session that was responsible for the sleep coma he had just awaken from. Saint pulled the covers off of him and sat on the side of the bed. The glimmer of light from the street lights outside escaped through the blinds allowing him to see inside the dark room. Saint looked back over his shoulder at the woman sleeping in the bed next to him. For a brief moment he allowed himself to feel for her. Truth was she was a good woman; any man would be proud to call her his. But she was mixed up in something that was bigger than her, his vendetta was much stronger than his feelings for her and although he knew she was innocent in the war between him and the Porters, he didn’t care. Saint was tired of playing. Knowing Dayvid was alive and looking from him and Nova meant he was on the clock. He picked his jeans off the floor on the side of the bed, slid them on and stood up. Opening the top drawer of the nightstand, he grabbed his gun.

  “Nova get up,” he ordered pointing the gun at her sleep in the bed. “Get the fuck up, you coming with me,” he repeated pulling the covers off of her. “What the fuck!” he said in shock looking down at the pillows laying on the bed in her place. “Damn, you can’t trust these bitches!” he said through clenched
teeth upset with himself. He clicked on the lights and began searching the apartment but she was nowhere to be found; Nova was in the wind. “She must’ve heard me on the phone,” he spoke out loud, seeing every trace of her gone. Saint walked into Nova’s closet which was a mess with things tossed everywhere. He noticed that the rug had been lifted up in the back of the closet at the base of the wall. Peeling the rug back he saw the empty safe in the floor. “Fuck!” he screamed banging his hands on top of his head, holding his gun in his right hand. “The fucking money been right here the whole time,” he said kicking a hole in the wall. Saint pulled out his phone and dialed a number.

  “Yo, I need you to do something for me,” he barked while exiting the closet in haste, snatching his shirt and keys before storming out of the apartment.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “Now there was long war between the house of Saul and house of David: But David waxed stronger and stronger, and the house of Saul waxed weaker and weaker.”

  (2 Samuel 3:1)

  The signs passed like blurry streaks of green as Nova raced up I-95 towards Baltimore, her heart rate matching the speedometer. The pounding in her chest made it feel like her heart would leap through her shirt at any moment. Going off of fear and adrenaline, Nova gave no thought to the highway patrol as she zoomed through traffic; constantly checking her rearview to see if she had been followed. Who else knows? No telling whose been watching me. The thought frightened her and the black duffle bag full of money in her trunk had her nerves fried. She knew niggas wouldn’t hesitate to kill for that type of come up and she was an easy target. All that ran through her mind while trying to process the conversation she overheard Saint having on the phone.