by K. C. Mills
“Where is my shit?”
“It’s in my car,” he mumbled.
I released my hold on him and nodded to Rasta’s men. “Take him outside to get my shit, and then bring him back inside.”
As soon as they were out the door, I looked at Rasta.
“I’ll make sure this shit doesn’t happen again, and you’ll have someone new making deliveries for you. I’ll let you know as soon as I get somebody in place.”
Rasta nodded. He did talk much and he was always serious, but he handled business and brought in a shit load of money, so I respected him. Rasta started as a corner boy and worked his way up. He built a small empire, but just didn’t have the manpower and connections that Jodie and I had, which is why he joined our team.
Rasta pulled his neatly twisted dreads out of his face, and then sat down on the sofa, pulling a blunt from behind his ear while we waited for his men to return.
“So how long before you get your club up and running?” he asked as his flicked the lighter to fire up his blunt.
“Hopefully in the next six months.” Rasta’s sister was the real estate agent that helped me find my building.
“That’s what’s up. Sheena said it’s a good spot.”
“Yeah, she hooked a brother up with that one. I appreciate that. It’s in good shape too. I don’t really have to do much.”
“Well let me know when you’re ready for business. I know a lot of people. We’ll make that shit hot,” he said just as the door opened and his men walked in, with Craig in between them.
“Is it all there?” I asked as I stood.
“Just the ten keys from this drop.”
“See, this is why I hate fucking with people like you, Craig. You had a good ass job making a lot of money, and all you had to do was keep your nose clean and make your fucking deliveries.”
“I’m sorry Keem, it won’t happen again. I fucked up.” I laughed. “It’s all good, everybody makes bad decisions every once in a while.” I walked over to the table where Rasta had two nines with silencers affixed to them. I place my gun back in my waistband and picked up one of the nines.
“The problem is that you made a bad decision that cost you your life.” I aimed it at Craig’s head, fired one shot, and watched as his body hit the floor. I laid the gun back on the table and walked to the door.
“Call Marshall so that he can clean this shit up, and I’ll hit you up tomorrow. I’m taking my ass home. We good?”
Rasta laughed, “Yeah, we’re good.”
An hour later, I was back home and coming out of my clothes. It was almost four, and Tay was still sleep. She didn’t even hear me come in, so I climbed into bed and pulled her body close to mine. She relaxed against my chest as I kissed the back of her neck and closed my eyes, but the second I felt myself drifting, the sound of someone beating on the door snapped me out of it. Tay sat up the same time I did and looked at me. “Who is that?” she mumbled.
“I don’t know, get dressed,” I said.
Tay didn’t ask any questions; she just did as I asked, and I did the same. After she was dressed in leggings, a t-shirt, and I had on my jeans, I walked to the door just as they began beating on it again.
“Hakeem Williams. Open the door, we have a warrant to search this apartment.”
“Fuck,” I mumbled as I unlocked the door and pulled it open. Within seconds, about ten cops forced their way past me.
“What’s this about?” I asked who I assumed was the detective. He had a piece of paper in his hand that he slapped against my chest while he wore a big ass grin.
“Read it and get the fuck out of my way.”
I felt my jaw tighten as I grabbed the paper and looked at Tay. I didn’t know what was going on, but it didn’t look good for me.
To be continued…..
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