“Shut the fuck up and open the door.” Big John said, hitting Maleek in the back of the head with his gun.
Maleek reluctantly opened the door and just as Lorenzo said there are women totally naked at the table bagging drugs, cooking drugs and counting money. All are naked except for one who is wearing an apron. They pushed Maleek through the door and caught the ladies by surprise.
“All ya’ll bitches get your hands up and shut the fuck up.” Travon demanded.
“Yo Skillz watch the door, Big John watch this motherfucker.” Lorenzo instructed.
“Bags.” Travon yelled out, and they all pulled out garbage bags from their back pocket.
“Okay ladies let’s go. Everything in the bag. Every pack, capsule, dollar and every grain of fucking coke. Travon ordered, waiving his gun, as the girls did what they were told.
“Ya’ll clowns just signed your own death certificates. Do you know whose shit ya’ll are fucking with?” Maleek said.
“Keep it up pussy, and your next words will be your last ones.” Big John said, cocking his gun and putting it to his head.
“Look motherfucker you tell that nigga Horse that we tried to play fair. All I wanted was a piece of the pie, now I’m taking the whole fuckin’ thing.” Travon said.
“Yeah ya’ll bitch ass niggas think it’s a fucking game? Tell your boss the game is over.” Lorenzo said, momentarily taking his eyes off of the girls.
That split second caused all hell to break loose. The girl with the apron pulls out an Ak-47. Her first target is Lorenzo, and she catches him in the shoulder. The other girls flip the table over and pull out guns that are duct taped under the table. Travon and the guys take cover and return fire. Maleek tries to run, but doesn’t get far before Big John shoots him in the leg. The gun battle doesn’t last long because except for the table the girls have no real cover. While Travon, and the boys have the walls, and different sections of the house for perfect cover. It isn’t long before each of the girls is picked off one at a time. Except for the one with the apron who is laying down heavy fire with the AK-47. So far she has hit Lorenzo in the shoulder and Big John in the leg. The barrage of bullets coming from her weapon is so steady that the guys can’t come from behind their cover to return fire. The girl gets smart and starts to shoot through the walls to draw them out into the open. But just when her plan was starting to work, Gary who had snuck around to the side of the house, sticks his 9mm through the window and ends the assault with two well placed shots to the back of her head.
“Sounded like ya’ll niggas needed some help.” Gary said, jokingly looking through the window.
“You are always right on time son. Remind me to give you a bonus. Is everybody alright?” Travon asked, checking on his crew.
“Yeah I’m good, the bullet went stra’ight through. That fucking bitch got the drop on me.” Lorenzo stated, grimacing in pain.
“Yeah and I’m going to tell the whole crew that you let a broad get the drop on you too.” Big John joked.
“Yeah whatever. You should have seen your big fat ass trying to scurry across the living room when she popped you in the leg.” Lorenzo joked back.
“Okay. Ya’ll grab the shit and let’s go.” Travon ordered.
“What about him?” Skillz asked, pointing to Maleek.
“Oh yes my little messenger. I want you to tell your boy Horse that Travon Outlaw is in town and I’m going to make my presence felt until he can’t take it no fucking more.” Travon said, through gritted teeth.
“Travon Outlaw? You’re Travon Outlaw?” Maleek said, grimacing and holding his leg.
“Yeah why? My name is starting to ring bells around here ain’t it?” Travon joked.
“Yeah motherfucker. You and your bitch bought the rims for my truck. Thanks for the 10 gee’s. I should have popped your bitch right after I took it, but I’d rather fuck her after my mans and them deal with your bitch ass.” Maleek said, laughing. Those were his last words before Travon stood up and fired three shots into his face.
“Damn Tray? Now how are we going to get the message to Horse?” Skillz asked.
“Don’t worry he’ll get the message. Let’s go.” Travon ordered.
POLICE ON ALERT
“Will you look at this fucking shit?” Detective Johnson said, surveying the brutal crime scene. “Yeah whoever came through here wasn’t fucking around.” His partner Detective Williams responded.
“Okay so let’s piece this shit together.” Detective Williams said, looking around.
“Okay, from what I can see a gun battle took place between the broads behind the table and whoever stood right about here.” Detective Johnson said, pointing to the staircase where Travon stood about 2 hours ago.
“And right about here, and over there and over there.” Detective Williams added, pointing to where Skillz, Big John, and Lorenzo each stood.
“Okay. Question? The line of fire is this way correct?” Detective Johnson asked pointing towards the door.
“Yup.” Detective Williams concurred.
“Well then why is the back of this woman’s head blown off? Let’s see here, come on baby talk to me.” Detective Johnson said, as he pulled out a flashlight and looked for clues.
“This motherfucker done went crazy, talking to dead naked women.” Williams joked.
“Yeah I get practice every night when I go to bed with my wife.” Johnson joked back.
“Now you know I’m going to tell her at the BBQ Saturday right?”
“I bet you will you snitch, Bingo.” Johnson said, looking out of the window.
“What you got?” Williams asked.
“Another shooter took her out from right here. Must have snuck around back.” Johnson said.
“Okay one mystery down. Next question. Who’s this guy, one of the shooters?” Williams said, referring to Maleek.
“No it doesn’t make sense.”
“You’re right. These are close range wounds. If they are close enough to take him out no need to be behind the table.” “Well let’s see who he was. At least he’s got clothes on for us to go through.” Johnson said, bending down and going through Maleek’s pockets. “Maleek Stapelton. Ring a bell?” he asked his partner.
“No but my snitch knows everybody, hold on a second.” He responded , As he dials a number on his cell phone.
“Hey what’s up? …Maleek Stapelton, give me the run down on him. Mmm hmm..Right right Okay. I owe you one. Talk to you later. Okay. Homeboy right here was the security for the ladies. This was apparently a stash house for a major player named Horse and according to my C.I. there’s always two more guards outside of the house. So either their bodies will turn up or they were in on it.” Williams stated.
“Okay. Last mystery. What do you make of that?” Johnson said, pointing to the bloody 718 on the wall.
“You got me on that one. I’ll run it through the data base downtown and see if it’s a new gang or something.” Williams responded, before being interrupted by Lt. Daniels their superior officer.
“Sweet Jesus. Please tell me you guys have answers for me.” Lt. Daniels pleaded.
“Pretty much a drug jack move sir. We’ve pretty much figured everything out except for the numbers on the wall.” Williams answered.
“718 huh? Code name for any of the local gangs?” Lt. Daniels asked.
“None that we know of sir but we’re going to run it through the system.” Johnson answered.
“Well whatever you’re going to do, do it fast. I want this mess cleared up A.S.A.P. I can already tell it’s going to be raining bodies for the next few days.” Lt. Daniels said.
BEAUTY AND THE BEATDOWN
I was at the shop doing Terry’s hair for Monica’s Birthday party later on that night. While doing Terry’s hair she decided to fill Lashawn, Monica and myself in on her latest male victim.
“Yo. Did I tell ya’ll that the nigga Gerard is trippin because he just got his credit card bill back?” Terry asked, nonchalantly as I flat ironed
her hair.
“Well bitch he should spaz on you. You spent like $7500 dollars. You lucky he ain’t two piece ya ass.” Lashawn responded, matter of factly.
“Spaz for what? He gave me the credit card in the first place.” Terry responded.
“Yeah but he told you to pay your cable bill. Bitch you re-decorated your entire living room.” Monica jumped in.
“Damn, you are playing a dangerous game Terry.” I chimed in.
“Look, it ain’t my fault that his nose is wide open and he neglects his wife and kids just so I can get whatever I want. And the crazy thing is we ain’t even fuck yet. All I let him do is eat the pussy. And for that, I get all my bills paid and his wallet is open whenever I want it.” Terry replied.
“Oh shit, I forgot that nigga Gerard was married. Bitch you’re a fucking home wrecker.” Lashawn answered back.
“Look. The way I see it is, if a nigga ends up in my bed his home is already wrecked. I didn’t put a gun to his head and ask him to trick all of his bread on me. Besides, as long as I’m taken care of what the fuck do I care about his wife and kids? Shit. That bitch better charge it to the game. Fuck around and I’ll be the next Mrs. Gerard McMillan.” Terry stated, a little bit more hype this time.
It was just then that the woman under the hair dryer directly across from Terry sprung into action.
“Bitch is you fucking my husband?” She screamed, as she ran across the floor in Terry’s direction in a fit of rage.
Unfortunate for her, that she never reached her destination. Monica had stepped in front of her, snatched her by her quick weave and initiated the assault that would ruin this poor girls night.
“Bitch is you trying to run up on my girl? Have you lost ya fucking mind?” Monica asked, before slapping the girl repeatedly across the face.
But the woman never had a chance to respond because Lashawn was next to spring into action. She grabbed the woman by the shirt and continuously began punching her in the face. Terry jumped out of the chair next.
“Hold that bitch still.” She instructed, as Monica and Lashawn each grabbed an arm.
Terry rummaged through my top drawer until she found a stra’ight razor. She then headed over to where Monica and Lashawn had the girl held captive.
“Now bitch, you should have known better than to try and do some dumb shit like running up on me. If you had done your homework, you would have known right away that I am the wrong bitch to fuck with. Now I’m going to give you a constant reminder of who the fuck I am.” Terry said, before grabbing the girl by her face and slowly but painfully carving a letter “T” in her cheek.
The girl screamed to the top of her lungs as I, along with my other customers just watched in horror and shock.
The way the girl grabbed her face and the blood squirted through her fingers, reminded me of a scene
132 Sean Wright
out of the worst horror movie you could imagine. Terry spat in the girls face, punched her in it, and then ordered her to leave the shop. Now it was my turn to spaz out as the rest of the girls celebrated their victory.
“A ‘yo what the fuck is wrong with ya’ll? This is my shop and my place of business. Look at all of this blood; look at all of this mess. The police are going to come and shut my shit down. I can’t believe ya’ll.” I screamed hysterically.
“Yo Tiffany, calm that shit down. That bitch needed to get dealt with. She was out of pocket and you fucking know it. Now I’m sorry that shit had to get funky in your place of business. But when shit like that hits the fan, there ain’t no right or wrong time to deal with it. You just deal with it. Now I told you from the gate how we got down and now you have had a chance to see for yourself. So quit ya fucking crying and finish twisting our wigs up so we can tear the club up tonight.” Monica stated, calling herself checking me.
I just rolled my eyes and continued working, thinking to myself “What have I gotten myself into?”
TROUBLE IN PARADISE
Ladies and gentlemen we are now arriving in beautiful Miami Florida. The time now is 9:48am and the temperature is a warm 78 degrees. Please re-adjust your tray tables and bring your seats back to the upright position. We hope you enjoyed the flight and we thank you for flying American Airlines.
As a surprise to me Travon had flown me to Miami for a few days. After all the bullshit that went down at the shop, he knew that I desperately needed to get away. I looked over at him as he slept quietly on my shoulder. Poor thing was tired as a dog, he had been out all night doing his producing and promoting thing and didn’t get home until around 4am, and we had to be at the airport at 6am.I almost felt bad waking him up but the plane was landing. He could rest once we got to the hotel.
“Baby wake up. We’re here.” I said, nudging him slightly. He was so tired he didn’t even budge.
“Come on Tray, the plane is landing.” I said, nudging him a bit harder this time.
“Okay, okay I’m up baby.” He finally responded.
His eyes stayed closed but at least he wasn’t in a dead sleep. Me on the other hand, I was excited as hell. I had never really been anywhere before. And as the plane descended and I saw the beautiful scenery with the ocean and palm trees I knew I was in for a good vacation. When we got outside of the airport, there was a chauffeur holding up a sign with Travon’s name on it. But he wasn’t standing in front of a limousine; it was a large exotic looking car. At the time I didn’t know what it was, but it was black with dark tint, the back seat windows had curtains and the emblem on the hood looked like two letter M’s going through each other.
“Your chariot awaits.” Travon said, pointing towards the luxury vehicle in front of us. Bu as we attempted to enter, the chauffer (who just happened to be white) stepped in front of us.
“Excuse me but this vehicle is reserved.” He said, as he rolled his eyes, turned up his nose and stopped me by lightly grabbing my arm. Before I could react, Travon sprung into action.
“First of all motherfucker, take your hands off of my wife before I slap the dog shit out of you. Second of all, this car is reserved for me. Now put the luggage in the trunk before I call your boss Scott right now and have you driving yellow taxi’s in New York by tomorrow.” Travon said, through clenched teeth, now almost chest to chest with the chauffer. His voice was monotone yet firm and the words cut through the chauffer like a hot knife through butter.
“I-I apologize Mr. Outlaw. I h-h-had no idea sir.” The chauffer said, stuttering and fumbling with the bags.
“Yeah, I know you didn’t you racist motherfucker.” Travon replied his voice still firm and his stare was as cold as a gangster’s soul.
In all the time I had known him I had never saw Travon angry. I mean like I said, he wasn’t flipping out, but his demeanor during this ordeal was a side of him that I had never seen. But even so, I decided to just write it off. After all, the man did put his hands on his wife. I melted like butter when I heard that. He had never addressed me as his wife before. God I love this man.
When we reached the Hotel it looked like it was never ending. I damn near got a crook in my neck from looking up.
136 Sean Wright
“Damn baby. What floor are we staying on?” I asked, excitedly.
“We are all the way at the top. We are staying in the Penthouse suite baby.” He replied, giving me a hug and a short but sensual kiss.
“Will that be all Mr. Outlaw sir?” The Chauffer said, now with a total change of attitude.
“That’s all for now. But I paid to have this car on call 24 hours a day during my stay in Miami and I plan on tipping my driver very well.” Travon responded, digging into his pockets while the chauffer’s mouth started to water.
“Too bad the driver ain’t you. Here, give Scott my card and tell him to send me a new driver.” Travon said as he passed his card to the now infuriated driver.
“Mr. Outlaw that won’t be necessary. I assure you that what happened at the airport was a horrible mistake and it won’t happen again sir.�
� The chauffer pleaded.
“You’re damn right it won’t happen again. Now beat it. Kick rocks motherfucker, before I lose my temper.” Travon demanded, as the now beet red chauffer handed the bags to the bellboy who was beet red himself trying not to double over with laughter.
“Very well sir.” The chauffer said, finally giving up. The Hotel lobby was just as big and beautiful as the outside. It was decorated with a gold and cream décor, and there were very big chandeliers hanging from the ceilings. There was a large ivory piano in the center of the floor and a man in a tuxedo taking request from any guest that had one.
“I bet you don’t know any Jay-Z.” Travon said, ignorantly as he placed a crisp 100 dollar bill inside the man’s tip cup.
The man pretended to find it funny as he accepted the money and gave a fake smile. Once we registered at the front desk we were instructed to head over to the golden elevator to the left that was separate from the rest of the elevators in the hotel. When the elevator opened up there was a man inside with a red suit on sitting on a stool, it became apparent that his job was to operate the elevator. The only thing is the elevator had no buttons; it only had a key slot that was marked PH. I’m guessing that it stood for Penthouse. When the doors closed the attendant inserted the key and the elevator began to rise. It seemed like we were headed upward forever and a day before the elevator finally came to a stop. When the doors opened we were in the living room of the biggest hotel room I had ever seen in my life. The suite was the size of three apartments. It had two floors that you accessed by climbing a winding staircase. There was a large plasma television that hung over the fireplace. There was a balcony that overlooked the whole Miami skyline as well as the beach. On the balcony there was a Jacuzzi and a wet bar. The first floor also had its own private kitchen. Upstairs there was a king size bed along with a bathroom that had another Jacuzzi as well as two stand up showers that had multiple shower heads that came out of the walls. I would find out later that it was for water massage purposes.
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