by Ca$H
Ms. Combs raw grief had become stronger than her faith. It was times like this that made mothers temporarily forsake God.
If You're omnipotent bring her back dammit! Bring her baaaccckkkk!
She looked down into the face of her baby and realized that there was no prayer she could utter that would ever give Faydrah life. The reality of that was more than Ms. Combs could bear; she collapsed into Kiam's arms, sobbing from the turmoil of a mother's tortured soul.
Ms. Combs' grief intensified Kiam's. He held her in his arms and let her weep against his chest. His face was as wet as hers but there was no sound coming from his mouth. He helped her back to her seat in the front row and left her in the care of a church member.
With leaden feet he returned to the stage to say goodbye to the only love that he had known.
In spite of the brutal manner in which she had been murdered, Faydrah looked beautiful. Kiam had hired one the best morticians in the state to make his baby as pretty in death as she had been in life. “But no amount of money can bring you back, my love,” he said.
He fought hard not to choke up as he reached down and gently stroked her face.
“Eyez, you were the only soft thing in my life; the one person that loved me for me. What we had transcended any love that anyone has ever known. Your love kept me human and sane, it was my only comfort in this cold, cold world and now you're gone.” Kiam's head fell down on his chest. Grief was such a heavy burden to bear.
JuJu walked over and put a hand on Kiam's shoulder but didn't trust his voice to communicate his condolences. Kiam's pain was his pain and it was immense.
“Eyez, I don't know what I'ma do without you,” Kiam continued. “I just know that I'll never smile again. Every bit of my happiness died with you and my seed. Every bit.”
He leaned in the casket and kissed her lips as his tears wet both of their faces. “Sleep in peace, baby.”
When he rose up, the anger inside of him bolted high in his chest and ricocheted to his mind before settling on his darkened soul. So many muthafuckaz were gonna suffer for this! They had cut out his heart so now they were going to feel the wrath of a heartless man.
Kiam looked over at the tiny white casket that sat next to Faydrah's. It was in memory of his unborn son that had died inside Faydrah's womb.
Died?
Hell no! My li'l dude ain't die, they murdered him. They took his life before it had a chance to begin.
The organist played Eye on the Sparrow as Kiam stepped over to the small closed coffin and laid his hand atop it. He closed his eyes and pictured a little hard head just like himself; a fearless li'l dude with crazy swag. The little girls would've loved him and other hard heads would've feared him.
Kiam's chest threatened to collapse. The game had served him the cruelest loss imaginable. His mouth was like a slash across his face.
“Daddy gon' make 'em pay, that's on our blood,” he vowed.
With the weight of vengeance on his shoulders, Kiam turned and walked back to the front of the pews where Ms. Combs sat stone-faced. Her tears had dried, leaving streaks down her face that might as well have been blood. Her overwhelming misery had been replaced by bitter anger that she whispered into Kiam's ear.
“Every day I open the newspaper I better read about somebody else's mother crying. Do you understand me?”
Kiam slowly nodded his head up and down.
In the back row of the church a tall, thin but shapely woman watched from under the black veil that covered her face. There were no tears falling from her eyes and she would have gone unnoticed had she not been texting on her cell phone.
When she looked up Isaac was staring at her with a strong interest.
**********
In the blistering cold the funeral procession traveled to The Highland Cemetery on Chagrin Boulevard to lay Faydrah and baby Kiam Jr's coffins in the ground.
Kiam proceeded up the path to where his family would be laid to rest with his arm around Ms. Combs. His team flanked him in heavy numbers and with even heavier artillery underneath their coats.
JuJu and the twins were on alert for anything suspicious. I wish a muthafucka would, JuJu thought. His head was on a swivel and his hand inside his coat. Other soldiers were equally ready for whatever.
Lissha, Treebie and Bayonna walked together in silence and blended in with the other mourners.
The graveside service was respectfully brief, to spare everyone from more tears. Gina, a close friend of Faydrah's from work, sang I'm Going Home to Jesus, acappella. Her voice was angelic and it tugged a few more tears from eyes that were already red-rimmed.
Kiam bit down on his bottom lip as he watched both caskets lower into the earth into the same allotted space.
The preacher announced, “Ashes to ashes and dust to dust,” then he tossed a handful of dirt on top of the caskets.
Kiam put two fingers to his lips and blew a kiss to his girl and his son. Lissha came up behind him and wrapped her arms around him. “I'm here for you if you need me,” she whispered.
“Don't you touch him!” Ms. Combs hissed, recognizing her from the description Faydrah gave of her nemesis.
Lissha drew her arms back and stared at her with restrained heat. Slowly, she backed away and rejoined her girls.
Ms. Combs looked at Kiam and said, “My daughter didn't like that bitch and I don't either. Whatever you do, don't you trust that tramp. I can see deceit in her eyes.”
Kiam was a bit taken aback by her quick assessment of Lissha, but he didn't discount it. Since Faydrah's death Lissha had shown him a softer side of herself. Whether it was genuine or simply the guile of a treacherous ass bitch, Kiam didn't know. But he planned to adhere to the old adage “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer” until the truth came to the surface.
Faydrah's death had rocked his foundation but his mind remained sharp, and his thirst for vengeance was absolute. He would take a few days to rearrange his operations and shore up any holes in his team, then there would be hell to pay.
God have mercy on the souls of the muthafuckaz that had darkened his.
Chapter 6
Uninvited
Xyna removed the veil from over here face as she walked into the bedroom. She placed her purse on the nightstand, eased her hammer out, and looked down at her lover with a glint of mischievousness in her dark eyes. Quietly, she slipped the gun under the pillow and sat down on the bed and began undressing. The black dress that slid easily off of her slender body matched perfectly with the color of her heart.
Wolfman watched her out of one eye. When she had undressed down to nothing but her birthday suit she slid under the covers and spooned her little soft ass against him.
At the feel of her nakedness Wolfman came fully awake from a long night of business, during which he had handled a one hundred kilo drug deal. When he had come in that morning Xyna was already gone to the funeral.
He wrapped his hairy arms around her and pulled her closer to him, allowing that morning hard-on to slide in the crack of her butt cheeks. Wolfman nuzzled his nose in her hair and inhaled its fragrance. Then his thoughts went to the funeral.
“So, how did it go?” he asked in his normally gruff voice.
“A lot of slow singing and flower bringing and tears of course. But, yeah, that bitch is definitely dead. Her and the baby,” she replied cold-heartedly.
“Damn, that's some wild shit. I'm still tryna figure out who the bitch is that killed her.”
“I don't know, baby. I told you what happened that day.”
Xyna was parked a half a block away watching the house from behind dark shades and an open newspaper. She perked up but slid further down in the seat when she saw Kiam leave in his truck.
Over the top of her shades she saw him turn the corner. She sat the morning edition of the Plain Dealer down on the seat, grabbed her gun, and slipped it inside her handbag.
She would've made her move right away — walked up to the door and when the bitch answered s
hot her right in that pretty face. Bang! Bang! Bang! But a neighbor came outside to clear the snow off of their front steps.
Not wanting the man to notice her car parked at the curb in such a quiet, affluent neighborhood, Xyna decided to bend a few corners. When she returned, driving slowly, fresh snow flakes descended from the sky and the neighbor had retreated inside. But now a car with a freaking Dominoes’ sign on the hood pulled into Faydrah's driveway.
This bitch must carry a rabbit's foot! Xyna huffed.
She watched as the pizza delivery boy climbed out of the car and strolled up on the porch. Xyna eyes narrowed when she saw a woman step from around the side of the house and creep up behind the delivery boy. The door swung open and Xyna caught a quick glimpse of Faydrah just before the sounds of muffled gunshots echoed lightly then got sucked up in the wind. The boy's body dropped just like what it was, dead weight, and the woman stepped over him, forcing herself inside.
Xyna sat up in her seat as if she was at the drive-in watching a movie. There was no way she was going up in that house now, but neither would she leave until she knew the identity of the murderess.
She strained her ears and listened for confirmation that Faydrah had met the same fate as Dominoes’ boy. Moments later faint claps of gunshots reached her ears and a curious smile enveloped her face.
The chick came out of the house moving casually, as if murder wasn't anything new to her. She wore a long wig and dark shades, a thick coat, black gloves and boots. As she strolled through the snow she kept her head down as she moved quickly to a car that was parked directly in front of the house.
Xyna started to follow her but decided against it. As long as Kiam's bitch was deceased it didn't matter who had turned her lights out. She left there and drove straight home to deliver the news to Wolfman.
“I've been wrecking my brain tryna figure out what bitch is bad enough to go up in there and do that gangsta shit. Lissha and her crew is about that murder shit but why would one of them touch Kiam's people?” Wolfman was puzzled.
“It doesn't matter though, he'll think I did it and he'll come for me but I'll be ready,” he added. “This is the major leagues over this way.”
“And those three little Barbie doll hos he has on his team can't fuck with your one bad bitch.”
Wolfman smiled. “Talk that shit, Slim,” he said proudly and pulled her on top of him.
“You better know,” replied Xyna confidently even though she hadn't murked nothing.
She leaned down and ran her tongue inside Wolfman's ear. “After seeing all that death today, a bitch needs to be reminded that she's alive. Put something long, hard and fat in my life,” she purred as she reached down and stroked him.
Wolfman's dick rocked up. He closed his eyes as Xyna lifted up and inserted the head inside her moistness. He gripped her small ass and pushed deep inside of her, feeling her tight wet walls. If there was a bitch on Earth with wetter pussy than Xyna's, Wolfman was yet to hit it and he had fucked hundreds of women.
He hadn't been inside that wetness a full minute yet and already his nuts felt like they were about to explode. Xyna put her hands against his chest. “Just lay back and let me ride,” she said.
Wolfman surrendered control. He laid back and allowed Xyna to do her thing. She lifted her hips until only the tip of his dick remained inside of her opening. When she slid back down on it her grip caressed his girth and her bottom opened up to accommodate his length. “You like this good pussy, baby?” she asked in a sultry tone that heightened his desire.
“I love it. Bitch, you're the best.” He couldn't help grinding up in that shit.
Xyna looked down at him. “Be still, nigga, I got this,” she said.
Wolfman smiled at her spunk.
She moved up and down, working her hips and muscles in a slippery harmony. Her pussy was gushy wet and hot, causing Wolfman's dick to swell up inside of her to a new thickness. He filled her completely but she rode it like a champ.
Wolfman reached up and pinched her erect nipples as he bit down on his lip almost drawing blood. “Ride this muthafucka,” he grunted.
Xyna's speed increased and her pussy started talking to his wood. The squishy sounds mixed with her moans as she tried to swallow all that pipe with her pussy made him moan like a bitch.
“Turn around,” he said. “I wanna watch it go in and out.”
“You know you can get this pussy any way you want it,” she said.
Xyna's tight grip held the dick inside as she rotated into the reverse cowgirl position and spread her thighs wider so that he could get a good view.
“Fuck yeah,” Wolfman said. That pussy was wide open as she began sliding up and down.
The dick was hitting the bottom causing Xyna to close her eyes as she enjoyed the combination of pleasure and pain. Wolfman gripped her hips and pulled her back and forth. Xyna was moaning and he was grunting. Both of them were caught up in the moment, oblivious to everything but the hot friction of pussy and dick.
The bedroom door eased open and in stepped Dontae flanked by two goons. Wolfman looked up into the barrel of a .357.
“Go ahead and get your nut nigga. But when you get through somebody has to answer for Two Gunz,” said Dontae.
**********
Wolfman sat on the edge of the bed pulling on his boxers. Beside him Xyna had wrapped a blanket around herself. Dontae and his armed goons watched them closely, ready to turn the room into a bloody crime scene at the first false move.
Wolfman put an arm around Xyna and looked into Dontae's face without a trace of fear on his own. “What are you doing up in my house uninvited?” he asked.
Dontae shook his head. “You don't get to ask the questions, I do. And one wrong answer will get two people killed.”
Wolfman wasn't no bitch so his lips didn't quiver when he replied, “Ask your question and get the fuck out of my house.”
Dontae couldn't help but to respect that nigga's courage, he was staring death in the face and not humbling to it. It didn't matter though, courageous muthafuckaz got their tops blown the fuck off too.
“Blood Money hit one of my spots last week. They killed my right-hand man and some other people. As usual they left one alive to tell the story—and the story that's being told is that you sent them after me. What do you have to say about that?” asked Dontae.
“You can't be serious.” Wolfman grinned.
“You don't think so?” said Dontae. He raised his aim from Wolfman's chest to his head.
“If you kill me you still won't know who sent those niggas at you, because it damn sure wasn't me. Fuck I need to rob you for? Do I look like I'm hurting for anything?”
“Some people are just greedy.” He cocked one in the chamber and re-leveled the barrel.
He repeated to Wolfman everything that was told to him by the girl that Blood Money had left alive, concluding with the mentioning of Wolfman's name.
Wolfman shook his head at the utter foolishness of what he was hearing. He said, “From everything that you know about me, what would make you believe that I'm stupid enough to send a message with my name attached to it? I don't send messages, I send pall bearers. And my people would've killed everybody up in there.”
“I damn sure would have,” co-signed a voice that came from behind Dontae and his mans. The click-clack of his street sweeper exclamated his point.
Dontae's head snapped around and his eyes met with the fearless eyes of a ponytailed killah.
“Did y'all muthafuckaz think y'all was gonna have a party without inviting me,” smirked Chino, Wolfman's top lieutenant and number one gunman.
He stood with the semi-automatic shotgun braced against his hip and primed for bloodshed.
Xyna's hand came from under the blanket, gripping heat. “Now this shit is even,” she exclaimed rising to her feet butt ass naked. “Who wants to be the first to die?” Her Glock .40 moved from Dontae to his goons and back.
Five muthafuckaz stood braced for death and murder, an
d nobody's palms sweated or eyes blinked. Every nigga in the room was a certified killah with huge nuts, and the only pussy amongst them belonged to a bitch that was real anxious to prove her gangsta.
“Let's get it popping,” she said.
“Let's do it,” chimed one of Dontae's henchmen.
Time froze as a black cloud of death moved over the room like a blanket of foreboding smog. Hearts pumped hard and trigger fingers held steady; jaws tightened and eyes darkened.
“Everybody just calm the fuck down and we'll get to the bottom of this,” Wolfman said, composed.
Dontae was the first to lower his gun and Xyna was the last.
Wolfman looked at Dontae. “Take your people out in the front room so I can get that nut you interrupted. I'll be out after that.”
As soon as the bedroom door closed Xyna made sure that those niggas wouldn't have to wait too long.
Chapter 7
Calm Before The Storm
JuJu and Bayonna entered his apartment with heavy hearts and shattered spirits. Bayonna walked to the kitchen to grab something to drink as JuJu sat heavily on the couch with his head down.
Bayonna watched her beloved take a few deep breaths, holding his hands together. Faydrah’s life had been cut short and not having the killer's identity was weighing on the whole crew. She took a few swigs of her Pepsi then headed back to where JuJu sat.
“You want something to eat or drink, babe?” Bayonna asked in a low tone as she rubbed her hand gently up and down his arm then sat the bottle on the table.
“Nah, I’m good,” JuJu responded as the memories of Kiam and Faydrah’s family played in his head. He had sat by many caskets but today would be marked as one of the saddest of his young life.
Juju tried to erase the piercing sound of Faydrah’s mom’s cries but every time he tried they would rush back to the front of his mind and send chills up his spine.
“Kiam is going to need you now more than ever.” Bayonna spoke softly as she laid her head on his shoulder.
“I know. I can’t even imagine how my nigga sleeps at night.”
Bayonna took a deep breath as she thought about the alibi they had concocted and the reality that Kiam probably wouldn't completely trust them ever again until the truth was found out. The thought that one of them may be at the head of all the pain that had seeped into the very core of the organization had to scorch his soul.