by Larissa
I look at her as if she had just told me I was dying of AIDS.
“Unlike you my shit stay fresh,” I tell her laughing.
“Ha-ha, very funny punk,” she chuckles, before throwing a pillow at me.
“But for real big bro, go see her.”
“I wouldn’t know where to begin,” I admit.
“You can start by asking how’s the baby,” she suggests, taking a seat next to me.
“You know she’s carrying your bastard child. And besides, y’all been riding with one another for too long to let a chick we both know you will kill before she says ‘I do’ get her hand in marriage.”
“The moral of your story is?”
“You always say you need somebody that you can have a football team of kids and share your life with. While you had one and now your throwing her to the wolves over a plan you might not even live to achieve.”
Damn! She hit home hard.
“Bro, every hustler needs a bad girl riding ‘til the wheels fall off beside them. And when the wheels fall off, they still gon’ ride to the death of them. Are you getting what I’m saying, or do I need to give you another example as if I’m the teacher and you’re the student?”
“Nah, I feel you sis,” I laugh.
“Feel me? Nigga, do you get me?”
Before I can reply my cell phone starts to ring. Looking at the screen it reads Judge.
“I got to take this call,” I tell Rayla.
“I guess that’s my cue to leave then, huh?” She reaches over and kisses me on the forehead.
“If you lose her I’ma hurt you. God sent you this angel and if you fuck up God’s gift I’ma fuck you up. Every bitch you ever think about bringing to meet me, I’ll be her worst nightmare. So bad they’ll see me in their dreams like Freddie.” Mushing me in the head, she stands up and leaves.
“Spit,” I tell him.
“Come to my house. And come alone,” Judge whispers into the phone and then hangs up.
“What the fuck?!” I say out loud to myself. “It’s three o’clock in the morning. What can he what this time of day?” Grabbing my car keys and Glock from off the nightstand, I make my way out the front door towards Rayla’s car.
After meeting with Judge, I’ll stop by Harmony’s crib and try to fix this shit that’s going on with me and her, I think as I proceed to start up the engine.
Making my way towards the judge’s house, I begin to get that funny feeling in my stomach; the kind you get when you know something is about to go down but you try to brush it off, or when you know the vibe isn’t right, but still you act like every thing is peaches and cream. That’s the feeling I have as I make my way up the stairs and knock on the front door.
“Welcome Sincere,” Thomason says while smiling as he swings the door open and lets me inside.
“Take a seat,” he tells me, closing the door behind me.
“Nah, I’ll stand,” I say, tryna shake the pain away that is engaging my body.
“Sincere, remember when I told you I’ll call when I need you? Well I need your help like yesterday.”
“Help with what?” I ask, not feeling him one bit. But that still doesn’t stop me from listening to what he has to offer and say.
“My wife is sick and needs around the clock support. So I need—.”
“Yo, I’m not about to be your wife’s babysitter,” I say, cutting him off. “With all the money you got shit, you can hire you a live-in maid.”
“Who said anything about you babysitting? Not me. If you will let me finish, you’ll know what I need you for,” he tells me.
“A’ight, finish. ‘Cause right about now none of this shit is making sense to me. And playing mind games is not one of my favorite games,” I explain to him, while taking a seat down on the sofa.
“I need you to make a trade for me,” he explains, taking a seat across from me.
“I tried calling Daniel but all I’m getting is his voicemail. And Henry already tells me he is going out of town and will not be back until later on this week. So I figure you’ll do it since you owe me a favor anyways.”
“Look here, I don’t owe you shit. If you want me to do something out of what you did for my sister just say so. Don’t sugarcoat shit.” I speak so loud his legs are shaking as if he is about to have a seizure.
“When is the exchanged being made?” I ask, trying to keep my composure.
“The drop is schedule to go down in thirty minutes,” he answers.
Standing up, Thomason walks over to his hallway closet. Upon opening it he places two keys inside a black suitcase.
“The man you’re meeting with, his name is Sam. He’ll be wearing a black jacket with some over-alls, along with a gray Cubs hat. I want you to stay in your car until you see him knock on the door three times before entering. And the best part about this is you don’t have to worry about him having a gun. Sam ain’t never carried or fired a gun a day in his life.”
“He sells and buys coke but ain’t never held or fired a gun? Right, run that line by another nigga that don’t know no better,” I tell him with a smirk on my face.
“He trusts me, so you’re in good hands. And besides he isn’t the toughest guy in the world. That’s why I’m glad you’re doing this for me. I figure it would be better for you and me. We both ain’t got to worry about a dead body coming up missing and later found in another state,” he preaches while handing me the briefcase.
“Where do I meet him at?” I ask.
“115th and Wentworth. The same spot I always do my deals at,” he tells me as he opens the front door. “This should be a quick in and out. When you finish call me.”
“After this we’re both quote unquote even,” I explain to him, stepping out.
“After this I’ll act like you never existed,” he says, before slamming the door.
“Pastor crooked, judge crooked, FEDS crooked. Who else crooked around this motherfucker?” I say out loud to no one in particular.
Shaking my head I get back inside of Rayla’s car and drive to 115th with the same gut feeling shooting off inside my stomach.
** ** **
An hour and two Blunts later, there isn’t any show from Sam. Another hour passes by and still no show from homie.
“Ain’t this about a bitch?!” I yell, as I light up another Blunt. Taking out my phone, I start to call William.
“Yo, Judge it’s been damn near three hours. Where the is he at?” I yell out, as soon as I hear his voice.
“He’s coming. He’s coming,” he says, calmly into the phone.
“I rush to get here and this nigga ain’t even here. Let this be a fucking set up if you want. That wife that you claim is sick will be right next to God waiting to get into those Heaven gates.” I warn him.
“Now, Sincere you don’t need to take it that far. I told you he is coming. Give him a few more minutes and if he don’t show come back and we can do it another time.”
“Nah, you can give him this shit on your own. I’m heading your way as we speak.”
“He’s coming. Just wait. I wasn’t like that when you needed me. I listened to your pleas and cries for some work, and without a thought as to why, I gave it to you. But you can’t seem to do this one little favor for me.” His voice rises with anger.
“If it was not for me, you would have been in prison. I saved you and this is the way you repay me?”
“Yo Judge, first off don’t make it seem like you did something by fronting me that work ‘cause it was given back to you that very same week.” My voice is calm as I spoke but I am ready to jump through the phone and choke the life out of him.
“I’m not, I’m—.”
“Hold the hell up,” I cut him off.
“Matter fact it looks to me like the work in the briefcase is the same work I gave you. Second, don’t get it twisted. If it weren’t for my father you wouldn’t be breathing right now. Talking about you saved me. When and where? My dad saved you. That is why you will always owe me.
And third you saved me from prison? Nigga, get your fucking facts right. You haven’t saved shit. But guess whose saving you from spending the rest of the few years you have left as a free man? My bitch, the same bitch that’s making it possible for all of us to walk these streets a free man knowing we should all be found guilty.” You would think I am a female yelling at her boyfriend from the way I am speaking into the phone.
“You’re lucky my word is my bond. Otherwise I would have been placed some shells to your dome years ago,” I tell him, before hanging up.
As I am about to start the engine up and leave that’s when I see the guy I am waiting on making his way towards the house. He’s dressed in a black jacket with some over-alls and a gray Cubs hat, just like the judge described. He makes his way up the stairs and twists the doorknob then knocks on the door three times and enters, closing it shut behind him.
I wait twenty minutes before stepping out the car and going to the house. Making sure no one is watching, I slowly make my way inside. Once inside Sam quickly places a .38 semi-automatic pistol towards my face. So much for him not being strapped, this nigga lied to me.
“Whoa! Homie, clam down. Relax your mind. I know you don’t want it to be a murder scene,” I tell him, stepping back an inch.
“Who are you and what are you doing here?” he asks, while he waves the .38 semi-automatic pistol; around as if it is a toy he is not used to playing with.
I think back to the conversation the judge and I had.
“You ain’t got to worry about him being strapped. Nigga ain’t never held or fired a gun a day in his life.”
“He sells and buys coke, but ain’t never held or fired a gun? Right, run that line by another nigga that don’t know no better.”
“I said who are you and what are you doing here?” he yells, breaking my thoughts.
Instead of responding my left fist does a meet and greet with his face, causing him to drop the gun and stumble down o to the couch. Taking out my Glock and cocking it back, homie is on his sweet way to the kingdom of Heaven when he yells out.
“The dog is here! The dog is here!” No sooner then those words fly out his mouth the front and back door come flying open.
“Freeze motherfucker. FBI!” Someone yells out.
Pop, pop!
Two bullets ring out. One goes into my arm and the other goes into my leg, causing me to stumble and hit the ground.
** ** **
Damn, Sincere, you done fucked up big time. Yo’ ass should have followed your gut feeling. Now look at you about to be state property. You can kiss Harmony and the life she’s carrying good fucking bye. You can kiss your freedom good fucking bye. Shit, you might as well kiss the world good fucking bye.
Normally you’d follow your gut. Why out of all days today, must you play Captain Save-A-Hoe? When he said that smart shit over the phone, that’s when you should have took him his shit back and had somebody else do it. But no, you want to live up to your words.
Besides that when did you start doing drops? Nigga, you don’t do that. You drop bodies. When you stepped foot in his house and he started talking that bullshit, that’s when you should have told Judge you’d holler at him later.
Fuck, you saw the way his body expression changed from the way you came in ‘til the way you left. The way he was all shaken up just from you speaking then calm and cool when you were getting up to leave.
And I swear the night you asked him for a front ‘cause of the situation with your sister he was acting like he had a pussy instead of a dick. Tripping, saying you was dipping into his last stash. Now on top of the two keys you gave him back he throws you more keys like he didn’t just say he was running out. You should have smelled the period pussy in the air ‘cause that shit was foul the moment you stepped foot inside his house.
The moment he started running off at the mouth that’s when you should have bounced. The moment he started smiling like he had just won a date with Beyoncé, you should have known that nigga was setting you up.
Fuck, the moment he started to get all hard, as if his balls had grown overnight, when you two had that face off over the phone, that’s when you should have started the engine and drove the fuck off, took him his shit, and went to talk with Harmony. That’s where you should be right about now.
And since we’re talking about Harmony, do you really think she’ll be able to cope with bringing a baby to see you behind bars? Hell fucking no. Ma, gon’ take flight and leave your ass high and dry. You suppose to be here protecting her. How you are going to do that rotting in prison?
And to make this situation even more fucked up than it already is, you know she’s easy to manipulate when she feels her back is against the wall. And you know what that means? Joe is going to have her ass taking in more numbers than the lotto, making more bodies disappear than a magic performance, and have more money begin taken from the FBI files than a bank robbery. She will be in so deep that snitching on herself will not set her free.
Yeah nigga, kick yourself in the ass ‘cause where you’re about to go, there isn’t any more waking up whenever you feel like it. No more singing to the woman of your dreams while you’re making love to her or feeling her pussy muscle tighten around your dick while you’re banging into her lovely tunnel, telling her how much you love her as she begs you to go deeper. Ain’t any more head games either. No more gripping her hair when you’re ready to get that nut off. No more releasing down her throat as she lay the deadliest head on you to the point that you start to cry and moan, scream and shout. And especially ain’t no more feeling her sweet juices tickle down to your dick as she’s gripping on the sheets, biting the pillow as she cums.
Then there’s Mary. You must have wanted that motherfucker to marry the love of your life. Don’t say you didn’t, ‘cause if you didn’t you would have stayed by her side. Now you really have to worry about your child calling somebody else Daddy. And what about Joe? How in the fuck are you going to send him to meet Satan when you’re locked up? You can’t do hits in prison Sincere. And you damn sho’ can’t protect your family behind bars.
And since we’re on family what about Rayla? If you’re gone, it won’t be too long before Henry and Daniel join you. So who’s going to protect Rayla and your unborn niece or nephew? Don’t say you can do all this in prison either because you can’t nigga. You aren’t Superman. What you think you can put on a robe and fly out of prison whenever someone needs you? Nah nigga, it doesn’t work like that.
You might as well kill yourself now ‘cause you got too many problems and you haven’t even made it through the doors yet. Shit, right about now I bet you do wish you were Superman. I bet he doesn’t have these many problems. Instead look at you now. You fucked up, all ‘cause you had to play be the ‘my word is my bond’ game. Now look at you. Fucked, with no protection.
My conscience is kicking my ass as I keep on reminiscing about that day. Now here I am hoping this snake in the grass of a judge gives me a bond as I wait for him to come up with his ruling.
“Bail is set for five million dollars,” Judge Thomason says. “Court is adjourned.”
Oh, I got your ass now, I think.
** ** **
Later that day…
Standing outside of Thomason’s house Henry, Daniel, and I get ready for the mission we are about to make happen.
“Y’all ready?” I ask, opening Thomason’s back door.
Shaking their heard up and down, we enter. Slowly walking up the stairs, we go to the destination where we hear the most noise. Twisting the doorknob stands before our eyes Thomason, Carla, and Tammy, each penetrating each other.
“What the fuck is this? One big ass orgy?” I yell out, pointing my Glock in their direction, while the three of them rush to break up their body party.
“Seems like it to me,” Daniel says laughing.
“Damn, where your sick wife at? I see you don’t believe in fucking bitches at a motel? Carla baby, when did you start sharing? I thought you were str
ictly pussy licking? And Tammy. Poor Tammy, why you didn’t come to me? I could’ve given you the pipe.”
“Fuck the twenty-one questions. Judge, get your dick out of Tammy’s ass and step forward,” I instruct.
Without hesitation he did just as I instructed him to do.
“Shut the hell up D. I’m doing this as a favor to Sincere,” Carla tells him, as she gets dressed.
“And nigga I still am strictly pussy licking. But money talks bullshit runs a marathon,” Carla says.
“Well, whenever you change your mind you know where to find me.”
“Yeah, shut up D. We all know yo’ ass the king of dick slanging free of charge.”
“Damn, my pride is hurt.”
“Wait, so all this is a set up?” Judge cuts into their conversation and asks.
“Hell nah, this nigga thought he was getting some pussy ‘cause of his good looks,” Daniel says, cracking the entire room up into laughter.
“Playtime’s over. D, go see if you can find a pole or bat.”
“Gotcha,” he says, exiting the room.
Daniel return five minutes later with a baseball bat.
“I’m about to put some home runs in this motherfucka’.” he laughs as he hands me the bat.
“Now it’s time to play 21 questions.” I say, to the judge.
“What are you going to do with that?” he asks, crying.
“It doesn’t take a fucking rocket scientist to pinpoint what the fuck is about to go down,” Henry jumps in and says.
“Who set me up?” I asked as I swung the bat, fake missing the judge’s head by an inch.
“Please don’t do it,” Judge begs.
“You got 0.2 seconds to answer my question or the next time I won’t miss.”
“Joe told me to set you up. But the case will be thrown out due to lack of evidence. Somebody stole the evidence and the undercover is dead so I made your bond five million,” he admits.
“Tell Joe I say this.” Dropping the bat, I place two shots into his body; one in the shoulder and one in the leg. I had to keep his ass breathing at least until the end of my trial.