Falling For A Hood King

by Shvonne Latrice

  “Well, good morning, you,” Trigga said when he rolled down the window. Keisha turned towards him and narrowed her eyes at him.

  “So you stalkin’ me now?” Keisha asked him. “Didn’t I leave your ass at the hotel last night?”

  Trigga gave her a serious look. “You said you wanted to leave so I let your poutin’ ass leave. But I’m gonna make sure you’re safe.”

  “I can handle my own,” Keisha retorted slightly lifting her cute button nose in the air and sniffing indignantly.

  “Oh yeah?” Trigga smirked. “Lemme see how you handled them eggs first and then we’ll talk more about that.” Trigga eyed the plate. A simple breakfast of scrambled eggs with cheese and toast with butter and jelly. She did her thing from the looks of it.

  Keisha shot him a nervous look as she shuffled back and forth from foot to foot. “I—I hope you like it.” She pushed the plate towards him through the window. “Do you drink coffee?”

  “Do I look like a coffee drinking ass nigga?”

  Keisha smiled. “Well, what you tryin’ to say about coffee drinkin’ ass niggas?”

  Trigga returned her smile and reached for the coffee. “Not a damn thing. Give me that. Get your ass in the car so I can tell you what I think when I’m done.”

  Keisha walked slowly over to the passenger side and glanced over at the window in her bedroom. She could’ve sworn that she saw the blinds move suddenly.

  Nosey ass, Trish, Keisha thought and rolled her eyes.

  By the time that Keisha sat down in Trigga’s SUV and closed the door behind her, he was already digging in to the food like he was starving. A smile spread across her face as she watched him eat.

  “I told your ass I could cook,” Keisha bragged as she sat back on the cool leather seats and looked at him.

  “Naw,” Trigga responded as he took a sip of coffee. “A nigga just hungry as hell.”

  Attitude flaring, Keisha sucked her teeth and Trigga laughed as he looked at her. “I’m just kidding. You a’ight but if you had messed this up, it would have been a damn shame.”

  “Well, if I had known you were going to be stalking me all night, I would have gotten up earlier to prepare something,” Keisha said. Then she got silent and the smile disappeared from her face as she thought about the reason for why Trigga was there. He got quiet too and seemed to retreat into his thoughts so she knew he was thinking about it also.

  “What are you goin’ to do about Mase?” Keisha asked him after debating in her mind about whether or not she should bring up the fact that Trigga’s own brother was trying to kill the both of them.

  Trigga sighed and sat back on his seat. He placed the plate of half-eaten food down on his lap and rubbed his face with his hands.

  “I gotta talk to him,” he told her. “No offense, Keesh, but that’s my brother. He’s my twin brother. I can’t just go off your word on something like that.”

  “I understand,” Keisha said then looked out the window. She didn’t have any siblings but she could imagine that if someone had been telling her that her family was trying to kill her, she would want to think it through first before reacting. She would need to be totally sure.

  “Listen, I gotta prepare for a call in a little bit. After the call, I’ll be back over here. But I need you to take this, just in case.”

  Keisha looked down at Trigga’s outstretched hand and her mouth fell wide open. Shaking her head vigorously, she pushed the object away from her.

  “No, I can’t take that,” she said as she continued to shake her head at him. “The last time I held a gun…I can’t. I’ll be fine.”

  “Either you take this or you come with me. Those are your options. I need to make sure you’re safe…you’re in this shit because of me,” Trigga told her firmly as he puhed it towards her again.

  The way that he looked at her let her know that he wasn’t going to take her refusal as an option. Keisha nodded her head, swallowed hard and then held out her hand for the gun. Before giving it to her, Trigga held it up and pointed at it.

  “Click this button to turn off the safety before pulling the trigger. There is already one in the chamber. All you have to do is turn off the safety, then aim and shoot. Got it?” he asked her with a raised brow.

  Keisha nodded her head. When Trigga handed her the gun, she held it awkwardly in her hand, unsure of exactly where to put it. After giving him an uneasy look, to which he responded with a wink, she jumped out of his ride and decided to just hide the weapon under her shirt and make a mad dash to the door.

  As soon as Keisha ran in her room, she placed the gun in the drawer of her nightstand along with the other items she had stashed there, including over a dozen sandwich bags full of coke, pills and several thousands of dollars she had taken from Lloyd the day she barely escaped with her life.

  For some reason she just stared at all the paraphernalia and suddenly she felt a timorous shiver rise up her spine and dove onto her bed with tears in her eyes. She hated that she was being such a crybaby but at the moment, she felt like she had so much stress on her and there was nothing she could do about it and no one she could run to. She just wanted to remind her life to a point where it was normal and stay in that moment.

  Now she was holding drugs and caught up in a situation that she knew nothing about. Lloyd and Trigga’s brother, Mase, would kill her if they found her and she didn’t have the faintest idea what to do about that or where to go. She had no family or friends outside of Atlanta. She could take the money she took from Lloyd and go but to where? And how long would the money last?

  Halfway into her pity-party, Keisha’s phone chimed. Wiping at the tears that were rolling down her cheeks, Keisha grabbed it and stared at the screen. In true Trigga-fashion, he’d read her mind and was there to put it at ease.

  You’ll be fine. I got you, he’d texted her.

  Keisha smiled through her tears and wiped her face.

  Thank you, she texted him back feeling a ray of hope that only came from the protection of a man.

  Two seconds later he responded.

  You’re welcome. Now stop all that damn crying and close the blinds in your room. Your nosey ass roommate left them open.

  Frowning, Keisha’s eyes shot up to her window and she saw that she was looking directly into Trigga’s front windshield. Although she couldn’t see him, he had a perfect line of vision to her. He’d seen her mini-breakdown and all. No wonder he knew what to text.

  “TIIISSSSHHH!” Keisha yelled out as she closed the blinds. She could just imagine Trigga laughing at her from behind his tints. “BRING YOUR NOSEY ASS HERE!”

  THREE

  “Man, nigga, what you mean?” Mase fumed through the phone. “So you not gone be able to make the call?”

  “Naw, we can do the call, I’m just not at the room,” Trigga told him as he sat in the middle of a small coffee shop in Buckhead. He was trying to talk low but even still he saw a few of the patrons casting annoyed glances at him.

  “Well, how we gone do it? Three-way or some shit?” Mase asked.

  “Yeah, that’ll work. Queen will call me and I’ll add you on the line,” Trigga told him. “I’m not gonna be at the room until later on but she wanna have the call in about thirty minutes.” Trigga checked his watch out of habit although he already knew what time it was.

  He was feeling antsy for some reason. He also was feeling like he was being watched. Lifting his head, he scanned the coffee shop for a minute as he half-listened to Mase talk about how his funds were low and he needed the job. Then his eyes fell upon the gentle stare of a woman sitting diagonal to him. She had milk chocolate skin that seemed to glow. Her hair was pulled neatly into a ponytail, exposing her long, elegant neck and toned arms. As soon as his stare met hers, she blushed and turned away from him. Trigga found that funny and made a short, snorting noise as he watched her pretend to read a flyer on her table.

  “We takin’ the job as soon as we get this current job finished with. She gettin’ mad as fuc
k that the shit takin’ so long. Only reason she gave us this long is because she got her hands full with some other shit,” Trigga responded to Mase.

  A server came over to ask him if he wanted another coffee or anything else. She made sure to put extra emphasis on the ‘anything else’ that she was offering. Trigga mouthed ‘no’ to her and then tuned back into his conversation with Mase. His eyes fell upon the woman across from him and he noticed that she was studying him once again. Throwing her a small smile, he waved and she sent him a bashful wave back.

  “A’ight, well, I’ll be waitin’ on the line for the call,” Mase said.

  “Bet,” Trigga responded. “Aye, quick question.”

  “What’s up?”

  “The night I went after Lloyd at the club and them niggas set me up, where the fuck were you?”

  An older woman dramatically gasped at Trigga’s language, bringing her hand to her chest and then frowned. He shot her an annoyed look and then turned away from her as he waited for Mase to respond.

  “I was chillin’ wit’ some chicks from the club. Yo’, I felt like shit about that night. I ain’t even know that you was goin’ to be goin’ after that nigga like that. And you usually got that shit handled so…Man, my bad,” Mase said to him.

  Although he was trying to sound sincere, his face was blank and emotionless. He couldn’t wait until he was able to put a bullet through Trigga’s skull so he could be done playing this lil’ game.

  “Yo, something else had been troubling me that night at the club you was actin’ strange and unconcerned like you really wasn’t feelin’ murkin’ dude and his crew.”

  Trigga clinched his jaw as he pondered his thoughts carefully. If Keisha was telling the truth and his brother was trying to kill him he couldn’t let him know he was on to it.

  “Naw’ll, I wasn’t in any hurry to clap them niggaz cause shit was lookin’ lovely. Them niggaz was like prey on an ordinary day. You know how we rock! Lullaby they bitch asses to sleep, then BAM! Pounce on dat ass! Besides I was tryin’ to get my dick wet with them fine ass ATL bitches and murk them niggaz later on a smooth creep…like how we normally rock, na’mean?”

  Silence.

  Trigga held the phone so tight his knuckles paled white as he thought. All the while, the turbulent ebb and flow of his emotions were centered around the implications of what would happen if it turned out what Keisha said was really true?

  Could she be lying?

  Hopefully his brother wasn’t. But it seemed to him that Mase was trying too hard to make it seem like he wasn’t on some crazy shit that night at the club.

  “Nigga, you still on the phone?” Mase asked with an attitude, raising his voice.

  “Yeah, yeah…” Trigga responded as he contemplated his thoughts carefully and moistened his lips with a dry tongue. It felt like he was about to have an anxiety attack. Ever since they were little boys he had always known how to catch his brother in a lie. Mentally, he prepared to set the trap.

  “Tell me something, Mase.”

  “What, nigga? And make it quick. I found an online website where bitches selling pussy.”

  “Tell me how did you know I was at the hospital, how did you know to move the car that was shot up when they ambushed us?” Trigga asked and for some reason he couldn’t help closing his eyes tightly as he suddenly felt the throb of his temple pulsating.

  “I…I… uhh, hmm, I saw that shit on the news or some shit,” Mase stuttered.

  “Nigga, you just told me you stayed at the club that night tryna fuck some bitches!” Trigga barked as he suddenly stood up.

  Several patrons were now watching him, including the attractive chick at the table. Trigga didn’t care, his blood was boiling and he was fuming mad.

  “Nigga, what’s up with da hundred questions? I’m yo’ fuckin’ brother, your fuckin’ blood! We fam! What’s going on? Is there something you want to talk to me about? If you can’t trust yo’ fuckin’ own twin brother, who da fuck can you trust?”

  “I was thinking the same thing,” Trigga said in somber tone. As he thought on Mase’s words, he happened to glance at his mired reflection in the glass window. Again, he noticed the female staring at him intensely.

  What the fuck is up with her? he thought.

  Mase gave his brother a dry cackle when he said, “Chill man, you always on some paranoid shit ever since we was shorties. Let’s meet up, burn a coupla blunts, get faded and plot on these slow ass ATL niggaz.”

  The whole while Mase spoke, he was caressing the blue steel pearl white handle of the nineteen shot Glock 9 mm that he intended to shoot Trigga in his dome with.

  “Lemme get my thoughts together,” was all Trigga said in a strained voice.

  He knew his brother was lying and his heart was heavy at the thought of what he would have to do. Their dear mother would never forgive him for that. Truth be told, nor would his conscious but their deadly confrontation was inevitable. And the thought irritated him.

  “Fuck!!!!!” Trigga cursed out loud then kicked at the leg of his table in frustration.

  When he looked up, the restaurant security officer was approaching him and in his hand was a gun.

  “What’s yo’ muhfuckin’ problem? Keep this shit up and I’mma kick yo’ long skinny ass outta here!”

  Trigga gritted his teeth together and shot a menacing look at the man, as he stood tall in front of him. Just then a waitress hurried back over with a tray teetering in her hands full of food and drinks.

  “Elmo, everything’s good.” She smiled sweetly at Trigga as she sat the food down at a table next to him and smoothed her apron down over her breast and midriff with the palms of her hands.

  Trigga ignored the waitress as he stood up over the security guard and scowled down at him.

  “Who da fuck is you? A rent-a-cop or some shit? Get tha fuck, outta here!” Trigga grumbled.

  A ripple of laughter erupted in the restaurant causing the security guard face to flush red. His mouth moved with no words coming out as he fumbled with his gun holster. He couldn’t get it out fast enough.

  “Fuck you callin’ a rent-a-cop? I’ll lock your long neck ass up!”

  “Coming on y’all stop it!” the waitress said with a pained expression. She’d already had a long day and didn’t want to deal with any more bullshit.

  “You ain’t gone fuck with me! This is a restaurant, I’mma drink my damn coffee and you better get the fuck outta my face with dat bullshit.”

  “I’mma get the fuck outta your face alright!” The security guard mimicked him as he continued to fumble with his holster. Finally, he pulled the gun out and held it at his side. “Now I’mma ask you to leave the premises.”

  Things had suddenly turned serious as several of the patrons got up and headed for the door. Just then somebody walked up and grabbed Trigga by the arm. Instantly he pulled away,

  “Fuck wrong wit—”

  Just as he was about to take off swinging, he realized it was the attractive chick that had been watching him. Up close, she was even more beautiful with long, black, kinky hair shimmering in a frosty blue holder and cascading over her left shoulder in a curly, natural poof. She had a piercing in her right eyebrow and bottom lip. Her complication was swarthy black like rich dark coffee. Trigga couldn’t help but notice her audacious shapely curves in the tight-fitting leggings with ass for days. She wore a pink wife beater with a matching bra underneath. Her ample, double-D breasts stood out like trophies to be admired.

  “Don’t let him get under your skin. Come on, walk away. Too many of our innocent black men have been getting gunned down lately. Please?” she said her mellow tone was persuasive as she looked at him with angelic hazel eyes and then placed a hand on his shoulder. She tried to smile but only her eyes twinkled with an amber glow that hinted at urgency.

  “Yea, you better get his ass outta here before I bust a cap in his long, skinny ass,” the security guard threatened and began to bounce on the balls of his feet with excitement an
d newfound confidence.

  “Yo, nigga what’s going on? Trigga what’s going on?” The voice belonged to Mase. Trigga had forgot all about him still being on the phone until his voice thundered through Trigga’s earpiece.

  “I’mma holla at’cha later,” Trigga said while still staring at the security guard.

  “Meet you at—” Before Mase could finish the statement, Trigga disconnected the call.

  “Walk away.” The young woman tugged at his arm and pulled him out of his trance. He suddenly came back to his senses then shrugged the female’s hand off him and walked towards the door.

  “Hey, who is going to pay for your drink?” the waitress said.

  Without turning around, Trigga jabbed a finger towards the security guard still standing by his table.

  “He is.”

  FOUR

  An ardent bright sun sat high in the sky, embellished by sublime blue skies as Trigga stalked out the restaurant with his thoughts heavy on his mind. He was in foreign city, in a distant land with the thought of murder heavy on his mind…the murder of his own flesh and blood, his beloved brother.

  Suddenly he heard the chime of a door opening behind him followed by the sound of footsteps coming up behind him. There was no doubt it was the whack-ass security guard determined to continue their confrontation on the street. Pissed off to the fullest, Trigga acted on instincts and survival mode. With the quickness, as people passed on the crowded street he reached in his waist and came up with his banger in one swift motion. Midway, he stopped when he realized his blunder and tried to hide his weapon

  Too late!

  The startled expression on her face said it all as her delicate eyebrows rose with a hint fear. She stopped in her tracks and clasped a hand over her right breast. Furtively, he stashed his banger in the back of his pants. So much had been going on, things had been moving so fast and he wasn’t on his shit with everything concerning Mase swirling around his mind. But the last thing he wanted was to frighten a stranger that wasn’t involved in his mix.