“Down boy!!! Mama’s got a surprise for you when she gets home!”
After Q’s heart rate came back down to normal he sat on the edge of the bed and looked at his woman preparing to leave. She had on a thigh length Versace mini dress that displayed every curve and detail of her body. Her well toned legs and manicured feet made a nigga's mouth water.
“See you in a little while,” said Q.
“Don’t be too long baby,” she responded. Tee was hip to the way crowded places made Q uncomfortable, so he would always show up as late as possible.
“I won’t baby, I will see you in a minute.”
It was 11:00 when Q pulled up on The Block. He sat in his drop top, 645 artic blue BMW, scoping the scene. Money was booming. The Block consisted of two hole-in-the-wall clubs; two candy stores by day that switched to a poker house at night for the gamblers. The Chill-Grill was a food spot. It was run by Mrs. Janie. All the corner hustlers ate there everyday. She cooked 24-7. Rumor had it that she was as rich and gangster as any baller on the block. A crack head tried to rob her once and ended up across the street in Nelsons Funeral Home with a .38 slug between the eyes... The white people respected her so much she didn’t even have to go downtown.
Q spotted Tim across the street in front of Grady’s Store. He slid his .45 in its arm holster under his LRG Jacket before exiting his car. He eased between two parked cars and headed toward Tim who was still having a conversation with two cats from around the block named Dirk and Camron.
“What up T?” Said Q.
“Nothing homie. Getting’ this cheddar.” Cam and Dee want a half a bird, but they only got twelve five.”
As much money as Cam and Dee had spent with Q he didn’t even think twice. “What you waiting on nigga... Bless them! I’ll be at the Grill.”
At 11:30 while sitting in the Chill-Grill waiting on Tim to finish his business, Q noticed two unknown niggas eyeing everything that was moving. The mirrors behind the bar served their purpose well. Q could see them clearly. Just as Tim entered the door the two men were easing past him walking out. Q checked their attire from the mirrors without turning around. Instantly he peeped that the tall, yellow, pretty-boy nigga was either packing or he could rule the world with his dick. Tim eased on the barstool next to Q. “Done deal, homie. Jazzy just scooped up that paper and rolled.”
“Nigga, you should marry shorty ‘cause she real,” said Q.
“She’s already wifey nigga, no papers needed.”
“Aiight, keep slipping, some nigga will beat you to it.”
“Listen at this Shaka Zulu mothafucka giving marriage advice. A nigga that’s taking care of ten wives.” They laughed then there was instant silence. Tim never turned his head in Q’s direction. He followed his eyes in the mirrors in front of them. Someone was peeping through the doors of the lounge.
“Yo’, you peep homie?”
“Yeah, noticed it before you came in. You straight?”
“Just like American Express nigga. You just sit tight and let me go handle this shit.”
“Nah nigga. It wasn’t you they were checking’.”
While standing and stretching Q eased his gun from its holster and slid it in the front of his waist band.
Q walked straight out the front door onto the sidewalk. Tim was about three steps behind. He looked right and left before he spotted the two men leaning on a Suburban talking to two more guys.
“Damn nigga, you paranoid as hell. Them niggas on some other type shit,” said Tim. Q’s years of street knowledge told him different. He knew stick up boys when he saw them, but maybe, just maybe, he was wrong this time.
“Maybe you right, let’s get to the club. Where you parked?”
“Around the corner.”
“I’m over in the parking lot so I’ll meet you around the block.”
With that they split up. Q crossed directly in front of the ‘bur ban. He noticed Texas license plates on the front bumper. As soon as they locked eyes he knew never to doubt his instincts again.
“What up nigga, do I know you?” Pretty-boy said in an arrogant way.
Q’s blood was boiling but he remained calm. He was out numbered and didn’t know how many were strapped. “I don’t know? Do you know me?”
Pretty-Boy made a move to his left toward the backdoors on the truck, just as Q was about to pull for his gat. He heard guns being clicked. It was coming from behind him.
“Problem here niggas? Is there a mothafuckin’ problem niggas?” It was Tim and some other cat with what looked to be a Mack-10. Instantly people began scattering for cover, leaving only the seven men. Q was thinking never let your anger dictate your actions. He was about to diffuse the situation when Pretty-Boy broke for his back door. Boom-Boom... Blak-Blak-Blak-Blak... Boom. The men took off running, except Pretty-Boy, who had taken two hollow points to the abdomen and one to the lower rib cage. But he was still living. That’s until the unknown cat with Tim jumped up and moved with the speed of a Bengal tiger and planted two more shots to his head. Sirens could already be heard in the background as the three made their escape.
“Let’s get the hell out of here. I’ll meet ya’ll at the club” yelled Q as he began to run.
***
Club Mercedes was wall to wall. Sizing up the crowd Q already knew the fire chief’s pockets were fat. As soon as he entered the double doors he stood still until his eyes adjusted to the dim lights. He eased over to the bar to get his usual drink, a plain coke.
“What’s up Quentel?” said the lady behind the bar. “What can I get you to drink? It’s on me”.
“Oh yeah?”
“Well if that’s the case I’ll have you with two cubes of ice.”
Her name was Alien and she was fine, but she was no fool. She knew Q had a woman for every day of the week. And she was not trying to become a part of his stable.
Alien responded, “I better take a rain check tonight, sexy. Besides Tee and Van are here, so the tension will be thick enough.”
Q loved Tee to death, but Van was his first true love. Their on- again off-again relationship was only because of his mishaps and fuck-ups. Her love for him was as pure as gold. Whenever he needed comfort or peace of mind she was there with open arms. Van knew she was his heart. She didn’t have to flaunt it for other bitches to know either... She knew she was the one who had the longevity with Q.
The dance floor was jam packed. Everyone was facing the stage waiting on The Ying-Yang Twins to perform. Q sipped his drink slowly as he relived the events that happened earlier that night. “Who were those fools?” he thought. “What were they doing on his set? And why did they pick him to fuck with?”
The DJ announced that the show would begin in fifteen minutes. Everyone rushed to the bar to get their drinks before show time. Q eased from his stool and began making his way through the crowd. Before he could blend in good someone reached out and grabbed his hand.
It was Van; all 4’11” of her. Van was a chocolate bombshell. She was darker than the darkest night, but her skin was flawless. What she lacked in height she made up in heart. On more than one occasion Q’s female friends found out shorty was not to be fucked with. One afternoon Omar paged Q and told him Tee was waiting on Van with some friends of hers in the neighborhood. Q almost blew his Mustang up trying to get home. When he finally got there it was over and he thought Tee had hurt Van, but as soon as he stepped out of his car Omar filled him in on what happened.
“Man, you’re not going to believe this shit. Van got out on Tee!”
“What? Get the fuck outta here nigga!”
“I’m serious. I mean, I broke them up and all, but she got the best of her.”
Q couldn’t believe his ears. Tee was pretty nice with the hands to be a woman. She shadowed boxed him all the time at home. Q stopped by Van and her mother’s house to check up on her. He rang the doorbell once before her mother answered. She was visibly upset at what had gone down. Van was her only child and they were close.
“How you doing Mrs. Ellerbe? I want to apologize for what happened.” She gave a half hearted smile and pointed toward Van’s bedroom. Q could hear Van’s shower running as he entered her room.
“Yo’ shorty, come up outta there,” Q hollered.
“Just a minute Baby.” Baby, Q thought? She just finished fighting one of my girls and she’s still calling me Baby. Now he was really confused. Ten minutes later Van shook a half asleep Q awake.
“Damn, what took you so long?”
“It was only ten minutes Q. You just fell asleep,” she said while sitting on the edge of her bed beside him with only a towel wrapped around her. She handed him a bottle of watermelon/raspberry body lotion, his favorite. She stood up in front of him and dropped her towel. Q reached out and stuck his index finger in and around her belly button. She began to moan from his touch.
“Baby, are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” Q said.
“Hurt? The only thing that hurts is Omar stopped it before I could finish that trick off,” she said as she grabbed Q’s hand and put it around her slim waist.
“I love you, more than life itself. Never once have I considered cheating on you. Baby, don’t let this hustle game, these streets, and these dizzy bitches that don’t really love you for you, ruin what we made plans to have ever since we carved our names in that tree,” she said as she pointed out her bedroom window. Q could see the sincerity in her eyes and it crushed his heart. All the dirt he had done she stood strong, living up to her promise she had made to him as a teenager. That she would always be by his side through thick and thin. Holding her warm body in his arms he could feel the moisture from her tears on his shoulder.
“I love you too,” was all he could muster up the strength to say, as they held one another for hours.
“Hey Baby,” Van said, handing Q her spare condo key as she embraced him. He stepped back and took the key from her hand. She had on a tight fitting Prada mini dress which matched her dark skin. Van never had to wear make-up. Her beauty was natural. She wore a chain around her neck with the word ONE. Q had given it to her as a gift and a promise that they would always be just that... ONE.
“What up ma?” Q yelled over the music.
“You,” she said.
“Nah. It’s got to be you. And what I tell you about all that exposure,” he said while eyeing her up and down.
“Boy, don’t start tripping’ over a dress you bought,” she yelled as she put her hand on her hip.
“Aiight now. I just don’t want to have to get up in one of these nigga’s ass tonight. I’ve already had some problems on The Block tonight and I’m not up for more drama.” Van sensed his uneasiness and suggested they leave.” We can get up out of here if you want baby.”
“I can’t right now because I haven’t seen Tim yet and he was supposed to meet me here. Besides, your cousins Vet and Netra are looking pretty impatient over there waiting on you.”
“Well that’s tough shit. And anyway, I’m sleeping with you, not them.” She said with a smirk on her face.
“Na enjoy yourself, I’ll See you later tonight.”
With that said she headed toward her table. Q watched her until she sat down with her cousins before making his way towards the front of the stage where Tee and Elbony were sitting. “Damn this shit’s packed” he thought, as he squeezed through the crowd. When he finally reached Tee’s table he was surprised to see Omar there with Kiki. KiKi hardly ever came to the club. “What up everybody?” Q said as he pulled out his chair beside Tee. Instantly he noticed her attitude.
“It’s almost 1:00 Q what took you so long?” said Tee.
He took a deep breath and was about to answer when the lights went dim and the DJ begun introducing The Ying Yang Twins. The crowd went wild when Lil John entered first saying “YEA.” They rocked all of their latest joints including “Shake It like a Salt Shaker” and the strippers were going crazy. Given the signal Omar and Q stepped away from the table and made their way to the office in the back. Once inside Big Kev waved them in another door that read PRIVATE.
“Damn nigga, how many strippers you got out on that mothafucka tonight?” Q said to Big Kev.
“Stopped counting at twenty nigga, why?”
“Cause them bitches probably making more money than all of us together, that’s why.” Q began dialing Tim’s cell number. The phone inside the desk drawer began to ring. Big Kev pulled the phone from the drawer and showed it to Q. He shut his flip and grabbed Tim’s. “So that nigga did make it here huh?”
“Yeah, he’s at the bar with some new cat. He told me what went down on The Block. Shit’s going to be hotter than a mothafucka for a few days.”
“Yeah, I’m hip nigga. Them four bama’s had a death wish or something.”
“Well, they always said be careful what you wish for.”
“That nigga at the bar with Tim, he is as thorough as they come. He didn’t even blink before letting that Mac-10 go!”
Code-Red Code-Red was all you could hear blasting on Kev’s radio. All three jumped up and headed out the door. The commotion was coming from down at the booth where Shea and Tab were collecting money. Two niggas were standing outside of a Big Boy Benz complaining about being checked for weapons. Big Ant was explaining the situation to them as calmly as he could, but they weren’t trying to hear that shit. Cars were honking their horns behind them, trying not to miss the rest of the show.
Q stopped at the booth to check up on the situation. “What’s the problem?” he asked.
“Just two niggas acting up, thinking they VIP or something." said Tab.
“Yeah.”
“Yeah. They both packing but don’t want to leave their shit.” Q looked the Benz over. Da Da was on the license plate. He only knew of one person by that name. He was a money-getting’ nigga from outta Wadesboro, NC. While Big Kev and Ant were flagging other cars around the stopped car, Tim and the new cat from The Block slowly walked up on the situation.
“Yo’ Q what tha fuck this Code Red shit? You got problems down this bitch or what?” Tim Said.
“Who you nigga?” the guy on the passenger side said to Tim.
“I’m the coroner nigga.”
“What up Da Da?” A voice could be heard over the split second of silence. “What’s the problem?” Q said, creeping up almost motionlessly, sliding his gun from its holster under his left arm. He concealed it from the cars waiting behind him as best he could, not wanting to cause a panic toward the crowd.
“What up Q?” Da Da said in a surprised tone.
“What up homie? What’s the problem?”
“Ain’t no problem man. I just don’t like parting with my girlfriend,” he said patting his waistband.
“Rules of the game playa, nothing personal. Now, you can either put your ‘girlfriend’ in the booth, or you can turn this shit around and go party elsewhere.”
“Oh it’s like that huh?”
“Yeah it’s like that homie. And for future reference, you need to put a bridle and bit in your horse’s mouth,” he said pointing to the guy on the passenger side. “If he ever tries to make some noise on this side of town again I will personally dig up in that ass.”
Da Da and his partner were heated, but they knew better than to try something stupid. It would surely prove fatal. Everyone near by could hear the confrontation, and that only made Da Da’s want for revenge more personal. He glared hard at Q before sliding in his Benz and yanking a three point turn leaving. Tim walked up and put his hand on Q to motion him back to the club.
“Oh yea this is my man June,” Tim said.
Q gave June some dap before getting into a conversation.
“Man, you’re a hard nigga to catch up wit.”
“I just don’t meet many people homie,” Q responded.
“He wants to join the crew,” Tim said.
“Yeah playa, whatever I got to do to be in, I’m game.” Q knew he had a hair trigger. He could tell that from The Block. A man like that is always good to hav
e on your team, he thought. But it was something else about him Q really liked. Maybe it was the fact he saw himself in June. A few years back he would have killed first and asked questions later. However, time and experience had made him cautious.
“We’ll meet tomorrow at Grady’s on the set and discuss business, aiight?” “Aiight. Well let’s get back up in this club wit these hoes.” “Yeah that nigga Da Da, got me all fucked up. I’m a see that nigga again and it’s going to be on.” said Tim.
Chapter 2
Getting Paid
The Crews stash house was located three houses down from the mayor’s home. They knew more about the mayor’s wife than he did. The Crew had a couple of officers on the payroll. Some strictly for, giving information on raids and others were hauling kilos by night. Both were supposed to be serving and protecting the community during the day.
“Everything’s ready,” Corey yelled from his car window. “The Brew is in place.” With that Q headed to their cook house. He stopped by the Purina dog food place and picked up a hundred and fifty pounds of food for his pit bulls. He knew he would have to cut back soon, but he didn’t know where to start. He knew every dogs match weight, and kept them semi-conditioned in case some of the local hustlers brought one of ‘their curs by to get stopped’. Turning on to the dirt road Q could see two of his boys holding their position on look out. One could never be too careful in this game. With all the stick-up boys trying to come up, along with the Po-Po raiding people’s shit, The Crew didn’t take any chances. Pulling behind the house he could hear all his dogs greeting him. He had a two time winner named Skull who would always make his presence known by running at full speed yanking himself off his feet. Any other breed of dog would have broken their neck. This particular dog had already been over the two hour mark in the pit. At twenty minutes into the fight Skull had suffered a broken leg. He went the other hour and fifty-two minutes on three legs and a truck load of heart. He was dead game and would give his life for Q in or out of the pit.
Country Boy Page 2