Blood, Sweat & Payback (Payback Series)

by Wahida Clark

  “Briggen, you know how it get sometimes. Shit just tight right now,” she had told him, giving him a couple stacks and a quick kiss. Plus, you need to sit back and meditate on that ass whipping you gave me.

  Then she had dropped the kids off saying, “They need to spend time with their father.” But the kicker was when she didn’t come back to pick them up for almost two weeks.

  Shan banged on his door like a mad woman, pissed because he told her to come get the kids or else. As soon as he snatched the door open, he said, “What the fuck is wrong with you? The kids are asleep, so don’t come in here hollering and shit.”

  “You said to come and get them! You was acting as if it was a life or death situation. I told you I was working and traveling.” She brushed past him with Courtney and Michelle on her heels. She wasn’t getting caught with Briggen alone ever again.

  “That was four o’clock this afternoon. Look what time it is.”

  “Whatever, Briggen. Pack my kids up so I can go. Or do you want me to come back later on today?”

  His attention went to Courtney and Michelle. They wore smug looks on their faces. He grabbed Shan’s hand. “Let me holla at you in the back for minute. Away from your bodyguards.”

  “Yeah, well make it short. I got people to see, places to go.” Shan was feeling herself. Especially with her muscle in the living room.

  “Okay, what’s up?” she asked as soon as he shut the bedroom door.

  “You on some real different shit lately.”

  “Different?” she echoed, acting like she didn’t know what he was talking about.

  “What you think? Just ’cause you gettin’ a little paper and a nigga ain’t got his weight all the way up, I’m ’posed to play Mr. Mom?” Briggen bitched, not feeling this role-reversal shit.

  “Oh, that’s what you call spendin’ time with your kids?”

  “I’m just sayin—”

  “What are you saying, Briggen?”

  “I got moves to make as well. But everytime I try to make one, you blockin’.”

  “Blockin’? What does it matter who gets the money in the family? We’re a family, right?” she asked intently.

  “Yeah, yo,” he sighed. “But, goddamn, a nigga is used to goin’ hard,” he weakly protested, and Shan knew exactly what it was. Briggen wasn’t used to looking at the world from flat on his back.

  Shan walked up on him and wrapped her arms around his waist. She kissed him sweetly. “Baby, just give me a minute, okay? I’m just tryin’ to stack for us, and then we can chill, okay?” she whispered in his ear.

  “I can’t chill no more. I need some bricks on consignment. Stop playing with me, Shan,” he replied as the reality of the situation set in even more.

  “Okay, I got you. I’ll set something up for this afternoon.” Shan kissed him passionately, and he returned the energy. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and his dick grew hard against her belly. Subtly but with pressure, she began to ease him to his knees. He kissed along her neck to her cleavage. She pulled her skirt up. When he got to his knees, she pulled her panties aside and cocked one leg over his shoulder. He ran his tongue along her pussy lips.

  “Mmm, just like that, baby . . . Yeah, baby, suck that clit for mommy. Suck that clit,” she purred, her hand on the back of his head.

  Briggen had always had a killer tongue game, so it didn’t take her long to come. When she did and the shudder subsided, she put her leg down and smoothed over her skirt.

  He looked up at her dumbfounded. “What up? What you doin’?”

  “Baabyyy,” she whined, taking his hand and pulling him to his feet. “Don’t be like that. I gotta go, but I promise I’ll be back early, okay? I want to spend some time with you before I go back to New York.”

  With a quick smack she kissed his lips. Before he could protest, she stepped out of his embrace.

  “Ay, yo, Shan, this that bullshit!” Briggen spat.

  “I promise I’ll take care of you later on,” she said, adding, “You need anything?”

  He started to say some slick shit but replied, “Naw.”

  “I’ll call you. Muah!” she threw him a kiss. With that, she went to peek on the children and then was out the door. Excited that he was like putty in her hands. Just as she planned, she was fucking with his ego, his pride and his pockets.

  Briggen was vexed. He grabbed the phone wanting to grudge fuck. He called Nyla.

  The phone rang five times before switching to voice mail. She was already busy.

  • • •

  Nyla was riding Nick’s dick reverse cowgirl style, giving him a view of her luscious ass as it jiggled and bounced while taking that dick like a pro. He admired his dick disappearing and reappearing in her tight, creamy pussy.

  “Ohhh, yeah. Daddy likes that, don’t he?” she moaned, licking her lips as she looked over her shoulder porno style.

  Nyla couldn’t lie. That curve could easily have a bitch fucked up. But she had an agenda, so it was only a means to an end. But she was damn sure enjoying the trip!

  “Make it bounce for daddy, baby,” Nick grunted, increasing the pressure of his stroke.

  “Like this? Like this? Oh, fuck me, daddy! Just like that,” she squealed, her wet pussy talking to him as the air was forced out with greater and greater pressure.

  Nyla came all over his dick, coating it with her milk and making her pussy so hot and wet Nick couldn’t help but come tumbling after her.

  She leaned back and turned, laying her head on his chest.

  “Dayummm, baby, I could sure get used to this every morning.” She giggled.

  Picture that, Nick thought, but said, “You and me both.”

  “Yeah, but yo’ bitch ain’t havin’ that,” Nyla expressed concern. “Shit, we can’t even get a decent ménage à trois goin’.”

  “Naw, li’l mama. Shit just been crazy hectic for me. But trust me, it’s gonna happen,” he replied firmly. Ever since she had mentioned it, the more he wanted it. Especially now that Briggen was home. He had a point to prove.

  “I mean, don’t say it if you ain’t got shit under control. I don’t wanna create no waves,” she remarked, purposely challenging his manhood.

  He blew her off. “Shit is definitely under control. Like I said. It’s gonna happen.”

  “Okay, daddy, I got you,” she replied, thinking, Yeah, I got you.

  • • •

  Born and Tareek met in the parking lot of the Oakland Mall at noon. They pulled up driver’s door to driver’s door. Born, in his black Aston Martin Vanquish, and Tareek, in his blue BMW 750i. Each had one soldier with them who got out and mingled while the bosses talked.

  “Peace, Lord. How you?” Born greeted. They both were members of the Five Percent Nation and from New York.

  “Peace, peace,” Tareek returned. “I’m good . . . but shit ain’t.”

  “How so?”

  “I guess you ain’t heard about the twins.”

  “Naw, yo. The God was outta town. What up?”

  “They killed themselves,” Tareek replied, letting the words sink in, “or each other.”

  Born shook his head in disbelief.

  “Yo, God, I don’t get it. Niggas said his people heard two gunshots. They rush in and them niggas dead, gun in hand. Shit is crazy ’cause don’t nobody know why.”

  Born sat back, listening. “Goddamn.”

  “Naw, yo. I ain’t feelin that shit.” Tareek was quick to let him know that he wasn’t in agreement with him. “Shit just don’t wash, God. My gut tellin’ me this shit is connected. And right or wrong, I’m goin’ wit’ my gut. That nigga Dark had somethin’ to do wit’ this.”

  “How? Them niggas shot themselves,” Born reminded him.

  Tareek’s mind was made up, so he shook off Born’s logic. “I don’t know, and I ain’t askin’ no more. As a matter of fact, ain’t no more talkin’. As of now, it is what it is between me and the nigga.”

  “I feel you, God, but we took an oath, and
a man’s word gotta be good for somethin’. You know?”

  “Exactly. That’s why I’m comin’ to you as a man, and I’m tellin’ you I’m outta The Consortium, so the oath no longer applies to me. Niggas don’t respect unity and solidarity, God. They don’t. Niggas wanna beef and cause confusion. The only way the hardheaded believe is if they feel it, not see it. So from now on, I’m doin’ me,” Tareek explained.

  Born nodded. “I respect that, yo, and I appreciate you comin’ to me with this if you out. That means that you and Dark’s issues ain’t Consortium issues.”

  They reached out and shook hands.

  “And you know that Briggen got beef with The Consortium because he can’t get his product from Nick’s girl. So there is gonna be some shit there. Shit ain’t running like it used to. So God, be wise. With me gone, ain’t too many vets left but you,” Tareek warned.

  Born smiled.

  “Remember, God, they came at me first and missed. If they come again, the God will be on point.”

  “Indeed. So peace, Lord. Be easy.”

  “Peace.”

  • • •

  Dark’s phone rang. He checked the caller ID as he drove. It was Quita. He was on his way to handle business, but he decided to answer and set up something for later. He knew he shouldn’t still be fucking Baby Boy’s girl now that they were doing business, but he felt no loyalty to the young nigga. To Dark, he was just a worker. A pawn. A valuable pawn, but a pawn nonetheless. Besides, Quita’s ass was always hot and tight, and the bitch had him turned out on her back door action.

  He answered. “What up, li’l mama? I—”

  Quita quickly cut him off. “Baby Boy on the phone. He finally got out of the hospital. He in the county.”

  “Yo, Dark!”

  “What’s good, li’l homie?” Dark frowned.

  “Man, shit fucked up! I got shot and shit! Lucky I had on that vest or I wouldn’t be here. I’m just gettin’ in the county. They got me for home invasion, attempted murder—man, a buncha shit! I need you to come through for me, big homie,” Baby Boy explained.

  “Say no mo’, maine, I’ll put my bondsman on it ASAP,” Dark assured him.

  “Good lookin’, yo.”

  “You already know,” Dark replied. He had already heard about the twins’ double suicide. He hadn’t known how Baby Boy had pulled it off, but hearing his charges, he quickly figured it out. “You a beast, li’l homie!”

  Baby Boy smiled proudly. He was beginning to look up to Dark, not knowing he was gutting Quita on the low.

  “Yeah,” Baby Boy replied.

  “Sit tight, I got you,” Dark repeated, then hung up.

  “No do—” Baby Boy started to say, but he caught a swift motion out of the corner of his eye.

  He looked up just in time to see the razor-sharp jail shank slicing through the air and straight at him. The dude holding it he had never seen before, but they were damn sure about to meet and get downright personal.

  The dude saw the home invasion story on the news. He knew the house as soon as he saw it because that was his aunt’s house. The twins were his cousins. No one else knew who the Howards were, but he did. When they showed Baby Boy’s picture and said he had been taken to the hospital, he knew he’d have his chance to get at him.

  Now a week later, Baby Boy came to the dorm and he was ready to move.

  He went and got his shank out of the stash in his cell. By the time he got back, Baby Boy had gotten on the phone. He gripped the shank tightly and made his way across the crowded dayroom. Had he come up behind Baby Boy he would’ve never saw it coming, but because he had to go around one of the octagonal-shaped steel tables, he was exposed.

  He lunged at Baby Boy with the blade and only managed to graze his side. He knew he hit some flesh because he could feel the subtle resistance to the thrust. But for the most part, he only ripped Baby Boy’s jumper.

  “This is for my family, nigga!”

  Baby Boy wasn’t about to waste energy talking. The dude outweighed him by at least fifty pounds, and his rage added another twenty-five. Baby Boy swung a hard right hook catching the dude in the eye. He shook him but didn’t stagger him, but the follow-up jab backed him up enough for Baby Boy to snatch the phone receiver and wring the metal cord out of the phone box on the second try.

  Baby Boy grabbed the wire and swung the receiver like a Chinese nunchuck dead into the dude’s face, and he came head-on a second time. The corresponding clunks could be heard all over the dorm.

  Dude dropped to one knee, snorting and shaking his head like a bull. Baby Boy didn’t let up. He connected again . . . and again . . . and again . . . When they finally pulled Baby Boy off, he snapped out of the kill zone he had entered. Dude lay sprawled out on his back. Blood was everywhere. Baby Boy was covered with blood, and dude wasn’t moving.

  “Oh, shit! Youngin’ killed him!” somebody yelled.

  Five police dragged Baby Boy away as he looked at the man, thinking he wouldn’t see the streets for a long time.

  • • •

  When Janay stepped out of the shadows, Born was ready.

  He had just gotten home to his sprawling estate in Highland Park right outside of Detroit. She was waiting on him. But when she came out, the crunch of leaves gave her away. Born spun, gun in hand, and aimed only to find Janay’s gun aimed at him. Each had the other covered.

  Janay smiled. “Glad to see you on point, nephew,” she greeted.

  “Always, Auntie.” He smiled back because he knew his auntie always went hard.

  They hugged warmly, prolonging the hug for a comfort they both knew she needed. Finally, they broke the embrace.

  “Where you been? I’ve been callin’ you like crazy. Then when I heard you broke out of the hospital, I really got worried. I sent Kay-Gee to Charlotte to check on you, and he said there was a for sale sign in the yard, so I ain’t know what to think!” Born explained in a tone that Janay understood and answered with a mustered smile.

  “No . . . I didn’t kill myself. I thought about it . . . but it wasn’t my time,” she replied, still hearing the metallic click of the empty chamber. The sound that had sentenced her to a life of suffering and the world, a season of pain. “But I had my broker sell the house . . . and everything. He should be contacting you to handle everything. Not being on the run. I’m never going back. Ever. Hell, I can’t.”

  Born nodded. “I feel you. So what you gonna do?”

  “Kill them all, and then . . . I don’t know.”

  “Well, come on in. You look tired.”

  “I am, but that’s what keeps me going. I just came to tell you what I found out. Not only is Dark not behind Crystal’s death, but he is behind The Consortium hits,” she explained.

  “How you know?” Born asked, all ears.

  She explained how she tracked down Baby Boy and found out he was working for Dark on the Fat Rich, Twins, and Tommy hits.

  Born smiled. “Interesting. Good look, Auntie. But I got somethin’ for you too. My man on the force said one of those shooters from the funeral was from New York.”

  He stopped and let that sink in. He saw recognition form in her eyes. She looked at him.

  “Wise. Melky’s cousin.”

  Born nodded. “And the other shooter is a goon for a nigga named Mo’Betta. You ever heard of him?”

  “No . . . but he about to hear of me,” Janay replied.

  “He’s been runnin’ with Briggen since he came home, and you know Skye and Melky were on Briggen’s team,” Born said, breaking it all down.

  Janay smiled a malicious smile. “Good lookin’ out, nephew. Thank you.”

  “Auntie.”

  She looked back.

  “Just say the word and I’ll send a swarm on the niggas,” Born vowed.

  “You already have, Born . . . you already have.”

  • • •

  “Your hand’s been exposed, Dark,” Sherman told him in the back of the stretch Escalade they were cruising the ci
ty in.

  Beside Sherman sat Joy, and beside her, Nick. Dark sat across from them, sipping Bacardi.

  “I’ll take care of it,” Dark replied, trying his best to keep his eyes off Joy’s sexy lips, bedroom eyes, and curvaceous, luscious legs. Her presence was more than distracting—it was magnetic.

  “You’d better. This young boy is a step away from blowing it all. On top of that, he almost beat another inmate to death in the county! He’s a loose end that needs to be clipped ASAP!”

  “So get him out for me and I’ll take care of it. I’ll send him to Tennessee and make sure he don’t come back.”

  Sherman nodded, and then downed his drink. “I should be able to do that. I’ll tell them he’s my informant, and I need him on the streets. I should be able to spring him by noon tomorrow.”

  “Fo’ sho’. Now, can we get down to business?”

  “Proceed,” Joy said, watching Dark with a bemused expression, like a lioness would watch a mouse. She absolutely loved her position as puppet master.

  “I’ve put in a lot of work for y’all, and I wanna make sure at the end of the day, I don’t get what I’ve been givin’ niggas,” Dark proposed.

  “I assure you, Jerome, you would’ve never met me if you were . . . expendable. We need a face on the street. Yours. You want to run the city, finish off the rest of The Consortium members and you can have it. We need a new organization. My organization. Sherman will provide the police protection, Nick will provide the product, you will provide the network, and together, we can get paid in full,” Joy explained.

  “And what will you provide?” Dark smirked, flirting hard.

  Joy looked at him with the gaze of a goddess, subtly licked her lips, and answered, “Motivation.”