by BlaQue
I can’t remember when I started to not care about shit anymore, but I do know it was somewhere between the death of my wife and child and the murders I committed against my own parents. Somewhere in that timeframe is when I stopped giving a damn. My soul was already to be delivered to the devil and I didn’t care about shit anymore but living from day to day. My appearance was something that was trivial, and I didn’t give a fuck about it unless I had too.
I plugged the iron in; immediately thoughts of how my life might have been if my wife and daughter had not been taken away from me, began to consume me. I almost felt bad for what I was doing to Dread. because like me, his whole world was being snatched away from him and there was no real explanation as to why it was happening.
I finished ironing the dirty garments and threw them on my oversized body and headed out the door to meet Head.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Critical Condition Band (CCB)
“Bazooka Bottom”
NiQue
When I heard the gunshots outside of the house I scooped the baby up and ran to the front door. I was scared as hell that the police had found out Pajay had done something and were after me. I don’t know why I ran in the direction of the gunfire. Something in me told me to get my ass in gear and prepare for the worst.
“Didn’t anyone teach you anything? You ain’t’ supposed to run towards the gunfire. You’re supposed to go in the opposite direction!” Pajay said harshly.
Before I could get my hands on the door knob I stopped and thought about what she had said. I should have been turning around and ducking for cover. I didn’t know who was outside my door firing. Something told me not to open the door, but to at least look out the peep hole first so I would know what was happening. Cautiously, I followed my instincts and looked out the peep hole. I didn’t see the police, but what I did see shocked the hell out of me! I saw Crack running up the walkway at full speed. What was he doing here? I wondered.
I swung the door open and was stunned to see Dread sprawled on the front porch, his blood oozing down the steps. I couldn’t even pinpoint where he had been hit. There was blood everywhere and the holes left in his body were enough to make the hardest of hood niggas fall to their knees and pray.
What shocked me even more than my soon-to-be husband laying shot on the front steps of our home, was the pink motorcycle I saw that sped from around the back of the house. The bike was moving so fast across the lawn it was ripping up the freshly-manicured lawn. I couldn’t see the figure on the bike. They were dressed in all black and the black helmet concealed their face. I could tell from the build of the person on the bike that it was a woman.
I knew this was a hit, and only person I knew of who would have enough balls to walk up on my property and gun down my man didn’t actually have balls at all! I didn’t know of any nigga on the streets who rode a pink Ducati. It was Pinky. She was one of my late father’s paid shooters and she was one of the best! That bitch came with a high ass price tag, but she was one of the best if you had a mark to eliminate.
I stood stark still; looking in the direction of where the bike had sped off too when a second bike came from the same path that the first one had come from. I don’t know what made me stand there trying to figure out the identity of the second assassin.
“That bitch is dead! Dead, dead, dead!” Pajay said, taking the words from me as if she were reading my thoughts.
“NiQue! NiQue! Take the baby and go inside the house, lock the door, and call the police! Do you hear me NiQue?” Crack said snapping me back into reality.
I looked around and saw my man lying in a pool of blood and I started to cry. I knew something I had done had caused Pinky to target him and now it was going to be war. I did as Crack said and rushed inside the house while he stayed out front with Dread. My fingers could not move fast enough as I called the police; and unlike being in the hood, they arrived within minutes of the call. When I heard the sirens in front of the house, I rushed out to see what was happening. Once again I was on display for the entire neighborhood to see. My neighbor who had rushed to my assistance when the police were here because of Joseah’s death, was on her porch again. She was clutching her chest as though she were having a heart attack watching the whole thing unfold.
“Look at that fake bitch! She wasn’t looking at us like that when we really did kill someone.” Pajay hissed in my ear
Other neighbors were standing around, and some snatched their children up and went inside, peeping the action from the safety of their homes. They had never seen anything up close and personal in real life as what was happening on my doorstep. If they were talking about me before then they were really going to have a mouthful now. Shit like this only happened in the hood. It did not happen in their pristine neighborhood. Sure you may have an occasional incident, but two within weeks of one another was unheard of.
“Miss, are you going to ride to the hospital with us, or are you going to follow behind us?” the EMT tending to Dread asked me.
I didn’t say anything I just stared in the direction from which the bikes had come. Crack draped his arm around me and tried to comfort me. I didn’t need comforting; I needed and wanted revenge for what had been done to my man. It was a direct violation and it needed to be handled.
“Don’t worry NiQue! We will find out who ordered this hit and when we do, it’s lights out for their asses!” Pajay said.
“You don’t even have to worry about that because I am prepared for war.” I said back to her aloud, forgetting that I was in mixed company. At that point, I didn’t give a fuck and I welcomed the evil within named Pajay wholeheartedly.
Crack stared at me and kept asking if I was alright. I nodded my head ‘yes’ just to get him to leave me alone and stop staring at me as I held a conversation with who he thought was myself.
The paramedics asked me again would I like to ride to the hospital with Dread. I declined. I could hear them discussing if I needed to see a doctor. They thought I was in shock. That couldn’t be the furthest thing from the truth! I was fully alert and aware of what was happening around me. I just had a different agenda. They were trying to save a life, and I was trying to take out whoever was trying to destroy mine! I walked into the house and exited with the baby. I got in my car and headed in the opposite direction of where the ambulance was taking Dread. I was so hell bent on making niggas pay that I didn’t stick around long enough to find out which hospital they were transporting him to.
I mashed my foot on the gas and headed into the city. I heard Notorious B.I.G.’s song playing in my head over and over! “Somebody Got To Die.” Pajay loved every moment of this shit and she was doing nothing but adding fuel to an all ready simmering fire! She lived for the chance to shine. Now was her chance, and I wasn’t going to stop her. I was encouraging her to do what she did best—cause chaos.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Junkyard Band (JYB)
“Shifty”
Pinky
I raced through the streets with my partner in crime right behind me. We were dipping and weaving through the traffic trying to get as far away from the scene as possible. For the first time, I had killed for my own personal gain. There was no money involved, and no contract for my services. This was strictly personal. I pulled my bike into the garage in a warehouse in NE, DC and killed the engine with my accomplice following suit.
Shaking and trying to gain my composure, I removed my helmet and threw up on the floor of the dank warehouse. My stomach was churning. I knew it was nothing but my nerves. I wasn’t used to this feeling. I was usually as tough as Teflon. Not this time. I couldn’t believe I was having issues with taking a life. Normally, I would have gone on this mission alone, pulled the trigger, and never felt a thing. This time was far different from any time I had ever had to end someone’s life. When I pulled the trigger I didn’t get the same satisfaction. Something deep inside was telling me I had made a grave mistake. I don’t know when I developed a conscious. Mayb
e it was somewhere between the death of my little sister, and me finding out I was pregnant.
I was starting to have mixed emotions about everything I did. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to keep the baby. My lifestyle wouldn’t let me. I would always have to look over my shoulder trying to figure out if someone was going to try and harm the baby for my past business decisions.
“Are you ok Pinky?” My partner in crime asked me.
“Yeah, I must have had something to eat that didn’t agree with me.” I said lying. I didn’t want anyone to know about the life I was carrying inside of me. Anyone could use it as a weakness and get at me when I least expected it. In this business you trusted no one and discussed nothing. Even with the ones you loved the most.
That is why I loved Neko. He never questioned anything I did. He simply went with the flow of things. He didn’t look down upon me for the path I decided to take in life; and for that, I was grateful. Who in their right mind would want to date a woman who was a stripper and a hit woman? Either she was fucking niggas or fucking them up! There was no in between.
“Aye yo Pinky, you did that shit! Damn, four straight chest shots. Did you see how that nigga hit the pavement? That nigga looked like he had seen death. I bet he wished he would have never gone home today! He really did have a homegoing service.” Head laughed.
“Why are we here?” I asked him. I wanted to get the fuck out of that warehouse. My stomach was feeling queasy again and I felt like I needed fresh air. I could feel the bile trying to make its way up and out again. I forced myself to hold it in until we could get out of there. I was sure that once Head handled his business and we could get out of there, I would feel much better. The smell of mildew was surrounding me.
“I have to see a man about a horse.” he laughed.
I am glad he thought his joke was funny because I sure didn’t. I didn’t like to meet with anyone about anything in places like this unless it involved my money! Plus, I didn’t know who he was meeting, and in our line of work I didn’t like to meet anyone I wasn’t familiar with.
Head walked over to me and rubbed my back.
“You don’t look so hot baby girl. Maybe you should take a few weeks off. If you have any work coming up let me know…I can get it done for you. I got this thing coming up, but it is on some legit shit. My boy got me a nine-to-five gig. So I should be free to help you with any contracts you get.
Head was a stone cold killer, but he had a soft spot for me. I wanted to talk to someone about what I was going through, but I knew that could be dangerous. Head pushed my wild pink dreads from my face and kissed me on my lips. There was no way I could tell him I was pregnant. He would try and talk me out of aborting the baby. Besides, I didn’t know if it was his baby, Dread’s, or Neko’s. I had been playing a dangerous game, and I was going to fuck around and lose if Head or Neko found out I was pregnant.
This whole situation was a mess and I needed to get a handle on it as soon as possible. I didn’t need any more complications. I wanted to go back to my normal routine. I’ve been calling Neko and he has been avoiding me. I think he knows I have been creeping out to be with Head. The last night we were together, I had left out and when I returned he was gone. He showed up again and then he disappeared. I know Neko loves me, but being that I used to be employed by his father, I am not willing to find out if he had the same temper his father possessed. I would hate to have to put a bullet in Neko’s ass if he turned out to be as treacherous as his late father and sister.
Neko had never shown any signs of being like Darnell and YaSheema Clayton, but I knew he could potentially be just as dangerous. Every time I thought of how kind Neko was to me, it would be overshadowed by the thoughts of how fucked up his sister and father were before their untimely deaths. Those two were cold-hearted. They employed me to pull many jobs and even when a nigga tried to make peace with them they were still going to war with them. I was motivated by the money, and they were motivated by gaining respect.
Head had wrapped his arms around me trying to get my full attention by planting a trail of wet kisses on my neck. Although I really liked Head, I was in love with Neko. I guess you could say I was in lust with Head. He would bang my back out, twist my body into all kinds of positions, and send me home satisfied as hell. That was the benefits of having a younger lover.
I didn’t like the fact that he was demanding. He didn’t want me to dance anymore. He wanted me to work strictly on my hits and nothing more. What he didn’t know was I had no intentions of leaving the entertainment world behind. It wasn’t the money that kept me dancing. It was a way to keep all of my money legal. There was no way I would be able to only pull jobs and keep the Feds off of my ass if I didn’t have a way to explain why I had so much money! Head was too young to understand that and his immature attitude bothered me.
There was a knock on the steel doors to the warehouse and Head and I separated ourselves from one another. He walked over to the door. When I saw who it was on the other side of the door it almost took my breath away. There stood Detective Gatsby. When our eyes connected and locked on one another, Head took notice to it. I decided to speak first before Head said something that incriminated me.
“Hello Detective,” I said casually.
“Good afternoon Ms. York.” he said glancing in Head’s direction.
“The two of you know one another?” Head asked, baffled that we knew each other and spoke so casually.
I nodded my head and hoped that both of them would follow my lead.
“Detective Gatsby is investigating my sister’s death,” I said.
I could see Head’s expression soften when he heard my explanation. He believed me!
“How is my sister’s case coming along?” I asked, trying to find out if he knew I was the one who had pulled the trigger on that bastard Dread.
“The case is still open, but I know exactly where to find our main suspect. Someone tried to off Dread a little while ago. It has been all over the scanners. Someone gunned him down on the steps of his house.”
My heartbeat quickened like a Congo solo in a go-go song. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw that fat bastard Gatsby smile at me.
Head watched the detective and I interact as if he were watching a tennis match. He followed our movements, studying us, and dissecting our every word. Even though Head was young, he was no fool. He could sense there was more to it than just my sister’s case.
“Aye Gat, let me holla at you outside!” Head said gruffly heading in the direction of the doors.
He and Detective Gatsby made their way out of the warehouse and I assumed they handled whatever business they needed to because Head was back inside within a matter of a few minutes.
“How do you really know that greasy mutha fucker Pink?” Head asked me.
“I just told you he is working on my sister’s case. Why?” I pried, trying to find out how they knew one another. They definitely had some type of affiliation with one another. If Detective Gatsby knew Head then that meant he was crooked. There was no way Head would be dealing with a cop just to be chummy with him. Either Head had turned informant, or the good Detective was playing for the wrong side of the law.
“Stay away from him Pink. That mutha fucker is off the chain and not to be trusted.” Head demanded.
I gave him a questioning look. I didn’t like to be told what to do by anyone. I didn’t give a fuck how good the dick was. Besides, the Detective had given us some information that I needed. Dread had managed to survive. I swore the slugs I put him were enough to kill him. Now I was going to have to pull a move to make sure that nigga didn’t come up out of that coma. I know he saw me before he closed his eyes. I didn’t know if he would remember I was the one who shot him, but I wasn’t going to take the chance in finding out.
Head spoke up as if he were reading my thoughts. “Pink what are we gonna do to finish off our little problem sleeping in the hospital? We sure as shit can’t just gamble and hope this nigga dies! We h
ave to finish his ass and we have to do it soon.”
When Head took control of a situation there was something so sexy about it. A few minutes ago I wanted nothing more than to get out of that warehouse and away from the sickening smell. Now I wanted Head to fuck me so could clear my mind. I unzipped my black leather rider’s jacket and pulled my tank top over my head, exposing my breasts to him.
“I know you don’t think fucking is a solution?” Head said licking his lips as he admired my partially nude body.
“No, but it will make me feel better!” I said seductively.
I stepped out of my boots and leather pants. I knew he wasn’t going to deny me. He may have tried to front like he wasn’t going to take me in that warehouse, but I knew better. If he even tried to deny me I was going to get what I wanted by force.
Head moved closer to me; kissing and sucking on my breasts. They were swollen and sore, but his touching them ignited a fire that had to be extinguished; and could only be done one way. He dropped to his knees and fingered at the lacy fabric of my thong. His touch made my body quiver. Ripping my thong off he went to work, he lapped at my flower as though he were a kitten taking his first drink of milk.
I tried to keep my composure as I stood there. My legs almost gave way as he pushed his tongue deep into my pussy, causing me to moan louder than I intended. I looked down at my young lover and decided I wanted a full session and he was going to give it to me. I rocked my hips, riding his face and mouth until I climaxed.
My legs were shaking uncontrollably and almost buckled from the intense orgasm. Since getting pregnant it was as if my orgasms were intensified. Head got up off of his knees and removed his pants and shirt displaying his chiseled body. He had the body of a God. His milk-chocolate complexion and bowed legs were delicious looking. When he released his massive ten-inch dick from his pants, my center throbbed in anticipation. I was all set to bend over and let him hit it from the back when Head used his motorcycle jacket as a make shift blanket and laid it across the floor. He laid himself on the floor and extending his hand up to me to help me down to the floor to join him.