by Aija Monique
“Not yet. We need to find out what’s going on, though. You ready to hit these streets? Get some shit cleaned up?” Cyrus’s nose was flared, and he was gritting his teeth. He seemed both nervous and irritated.
“Organization and planning is how I move. I can’t just go in hot all the damn time.” Shun was smoking on a blunt and cleaning his weapon as he talked to Cyrus about his next move. “No matter what you hear on the streets, we can’t just go by that, Cy. The marines do teach you that much: discipline, loyalty, honor. Shit, these men have no idea about that.”
“You still believe in that shit after they threw you to the wolves?”
“Yeah, I believe in it. I breathe it. I followed it. Can’t say much about what other men do, even in the line of duty. I can only speak for myself.”
“Duly noted,” Cyrus responded.
“Can’t wait too much longer in response to the streets, though. They talk! Loud! And when there is no movement, the takeover is inevitable.”
“I’m not a gangster, Cyrus,” Shun enunciated in his white valley voice. “Neither is Phil. We drug dealers, my man, supply and demand. You on some ole American Gangster shit. I’m not looking for all that drama, you feel me? That’s how you stay alive and out of the drama of it all. Cyrus, you’ve got to learn how to slow down and let shit solve itself. I want to live to see the fruits of my labor.”
“I mean, real talk, you think Phil know what he doin’?” Cyrus interrupted.
“I don’t know. Hell, this shit he on right now, I have to admit is new to me. But our next move has got to be a strategic one.”
“Dude, this ain’t war. You talking like we in the Desert Storm or something.”
Shun shook his head. “That’s the thing, we are at fucking war. You think these niggas gon’ let Phil just go about his business after he ran in these people shit? If he was smart, he’d be in hiding already.”
“I guarantee that bitch feeding him information.”
Shun looked down at the fire of his lit blunt fascinated by its burning glow. “Yeah, perhaps. But Phil ain’t stupid. He got enough sense to start reading between the lines. Phil know what pussy smell and feel like. Hell, he been busy.”
Cyrus fell back on the couch with laughter. “Yeah, that nigga been through Kern County like a muthafucka. I’m surprised ain’t one of these bitches got to his ass.”
“Don’t be surprised, nigga. Phil ain’t playing with these bitches. He don’t mind domestic violence. It’s a matter of time before Porsha catch an eye jammy. She got a mouth on her. She will get out of line.” Shun’s nose flared uncontrollably.
“Yeah, I feel that shit. So, what’s the plan?”
“I’m going to go get the drugs from the Philippines.” Shun lit another blunt and left it hanging for dear life on the edge of his lips as he finished twisting another.
“How many blunts you gon’ smoke, nigga?”
“As many as it takes to keep my mind off of this God-awful pain. I need a new supply fast. How many pills that nurse give you?”
“She gave me ninety capsules. How many are you taking? I’m getting worried about you, Shun. Don’t get addicted to this shit, man.”
“Addicted? Nigga, I ain’t some crackhead. Just need enough to get me through the day, is all, without falling prey to sleep. I got shit to do, so I can’t just be taking them pills all day. Besides, I’m about to stop taking them shits cuz they damn near ain’t workin’ no more. You see I’m smokin’ like crazy. I just rolled five blunts, and I ain’t passin’.”
“Yeah, I noticed. My hand been out a few times and you failed to take notice. So are we going to talk about what went down with you and Porsha, or are we going to toss that shit to the winds?”
“Fuck that bitch. She was—” Shun stopped dead in his tracks and thought about Porsha. The sex wasn’t bad, and she wasn’t bad on the eyes either, but she wanted too much too fast. And to go behind his back, bail Phil out, then start fuckin’ with ’im. After all the shit she spoke about was beyond dirty. Shun knew her moves. He wasn’t stupid. He couldn’t blame Phil, cuz how was he supposed to know that was one of his chicks? Ain’t no telling what the hell that woman said to Phil to get him to thinking somethin’ foul was going down.
Why else hadn’t he shown up to see about him? Regardless of any beef they ever had, Phil and Shun made every effort to be there for each other, no questions asked. Perhaps Phil felt like Shun made a selfish decision in meeting with Frankie without him while he waited for bail. That was the only thing Shun could think of that Porsha could use against him.
Phil was big on loyalty. It was his life, and if things were stale between them, it had to be because he thought he left him hung out to dry for drugs and money. In an effort to make peace, Shun thought about contacting Phil, but he had to be careful about his dealings with his own cousin presently. He didn’t know where his mind was, and he for sure didn’t want to cross paths with Porsha just yet.
Shun was smoking so many blunts his chest began to rattle a bit. He quickly tossed his lit blunt into the ash tray in an effort to regain control over his binging.
* * *
Porsha jumped into the front seat of her Mustang and slammed her fists on the steering wheel. She was so angry with herself for allowing her emotions to override reason. She was going to be stuck with Phil after all the shit they had done. There was no way she could return to work. Porsha sat still just staring out into the night. She was trying hard to think about her next move. Should she just go to Shun and ask for help? How did she get herself into this mess? her mind wondered.
“Fuck!” Porsha said to herself. She was so confused about her latest moves. Her motives were so off-kilter. Shun must’ve thought she was a complete whore. She hadn’t seen him around town herself and had to admit she hoped to catch a glimpse of him. Unfortunately, they had to keep a low profile due to their heists. Still, it wasn’t like Shun not to contact Phil, even if it was just to cuss Phil out about something.
Phil wasn’t at all her type, and what started out as just a ploy to make Shun jealous had gone a bit too far. She was in too deep. A façade she knew she couldn’t handle, playing the role of some badass chick, when she knew nothing of the world except what she could decipher from her nightlife at the club and movies.
Porsha was from the hills. She was rebellious, at best. Daddy bought her car, and she just stripped in the club to get a rise out of her parents. Porsha had this stupid idea that bad boys were the most loyal and confident. They had to be. They were fearless, especially when it came to the law. Daddy was always so careful, and she was tired of being so restricted.
Porsha’s thoughts were flowing. “I need to end this.”
“End what?” Phil asked.
Porsha hadn’t noticed him as he came around to the driver’s seat of the car.
“What are you doing out here? What’s the matter?”
“Nothing, just thinking about our next move is all.”
“Really?” Phil didn’t buy anything about her statement, but he let it go. “Well, come inside. I’m hungry.”
Porsha rolled up her windows and locked her car down before jumping out and following Philly inside.
* * *
“I’m going to go and see what these men doing on the block,” Cy said with a hint of irritation. “You gon’ be okay here?”
“Yeah, sure. I’m going to put these weapons up and take a nap.” Shun was fed up with the situation. The secrecy and the feelings of abandonment and disloyalty to Phil were taking their toll. He knew better that he shouldn’t travel alone, but he needed to find out what was going on with Phil. He had no plans of taking a nap. He had to find Phil and knew just where to look.
“Okay, man! I’ll be back to check on you in a few hours. I’m going to pick up my bread from these cats and make sure niggas not gettin’ high off ma shit or trickin’ ma chips.”
“I hear that!” Shun replied as he packed up his weapons and headed for his bedroom. “Lock me in. I
’m going to crash.”
Shun threw his icepack on the nightstand next to his bed and winced a little from the pain.
“Fuck!” he exclaimed as he peeled back the bandages on his wounds. The hole looked deep and something out of some sort of sci-fi magazine. He shook his head as he grimaced and pulled off the old bandages to put on fresh ones.
He took his time putting on fresh True Religion jeans, a wife beater, and a fresh pair of Jordans. It seemed to take forever for him to pull his leather bomber over his arms. He was so exhausted he became winded.
“So what’s the game plan?” Shun asked himself, double-checking his rough hair and untamed beard and mustache. Before he could change his plan, he grabbed his keys and headed to the car.
Shun drove the streets without ease. He had only full use of one arm. The seat belt seemed to melt into his stomach, applying pressure. It was almost unbearable. With sudden movement to his arm, his collarbone was burning well up into his throat.
“Shit!” he yelped, angry at the amount of pain he was in. He felt so weak and out of sorts. He pulled up to the front of Porsha’s condo. He saw her silver Mustang parked outside, so he pulled up down the block. He didn’t want her to peep out of the window and see him coming. She would be sure to lock the doors and call the police then. Shun didn’t know what he was thinking going to see Porsha, but his motives were to clear the air and put an APB out on his cousin. He was sure she had some indication of his whereabouts.
Shun sat in his car for a full minute, looking down at the steering wheel before wiggling out of the front seat. He moaned in agony a bit as he looked around the block to make sure no one caught him in this weak moment.
“What the fuck am I supposed to say?” Shun coached himself as he walked as briskly as he could down the block. His swag was different. He walked with a limp that was involuntary, like a pimp from the eighties. It bothered him that he couldn’t walk with the confidence he presented before. The pain stabbed deep into his leg and caused a slight pang in his back.
Shun stopped right in front of Porsha’s home. He felt paralyzed. He stood there pondering his approach for a minute before he could get his feet to move. Finally, he knocked on the door and rang the doorbell with confidence.
The Bonnie and Clyde duo were startled by the knocks at the door. Porsha hurriedly instructed Phil to gather all of the money and paraphernalia.
“Stay here!” Porsha demanded of Phil.
Phil looked worried but didn’t say anything. Just turned on his heel and ventured out into the seclusion of Porsha’s extra bedroom.
Porsha wiped the sweat from her hands before opening the door. She was sure it was the police.
“Shun!” she gasped.
CHAPTER 7
Blood on My Hands
“Porsha!” was all Shun could muster as he stared deep into her eyes.
“What happened to you? Oh my God.” Porsha fell into Shun’s arms, all inhibitions and anger melting away. Shun let out a loud grunt as he felt the impact of her body.
He grabbed hold of Porsha with his good arm and pulled her close against his mind’s intent.
“I was shot at the meeting. Things went from bad to worse in a matter of moments.” Shun shook away thoughts of death and dying as he fell into a coma of fear and uncertainty. He was taken back into the very moment where he clung to life. Money and power didn’t mean so much then. Shun’s eyes watered as he began explaining the events leading up to the gunfire.
“I’m glad you’re OK.”
“Yeah,” Shun said, quickly drying up. He slid back into reality and pushed away from Porsha, to her surprise.
“Word around town is that you and Phil been kicking tough.”
Porsha looked up at him with tear-filled eyes as she realized how hurt he was. “I bailed him out that day with the intention of helping. He seduced me, and I was so vulnerable. It was inevitable. I know it was wrong, and I’m sorry.”
“So why hasn’t he contacted me? I mean, I understand how shit happens. It just means that you wasn’t really about that life, no way.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you talking all that shit about being my wife, my girl and shit. Then you jump in bed with my cousin seconds later. You foul.”
“Shun!”
“Porsha,” Shun said dryly, looking at her as if he held back tears. He was in so much pain, both mentally and physically.
“Shun, I love you.”
Shun looked at Porsha and then up into the air. “Don’t worry about me. You do right by my cousin.”
Porsha stood still for a few seconds as she searched Shun’s face. She was irritated by his comment but knew she deserved it.
Phil stood just behind the door listening to the entire conversation. He couldn’t believe Porsha’s lying ass. She literally skipped the parts that suggested his cousin had dipped out on him. But here Shun was, showing up to who he thought was his girl’s doorstep in search for answers. Phil shook his head and retreated to the back bedroom. He had to admit he was hurt about the situation. He was embarrassed that he even believed a woman over his own intuition.
The truth of the matter was he too fell for Porsha. He felt alone and betrayed. Any hopes of fixing his relationship with Shun were shattered with thoughts of fighting for the same girl. He was led to believe that Shun didn’t have his best interest at heart. During the time he thought Shun had betrayed him, he fell for Porsha, partly because she was all he had. Shun seemed to be missing in action, living it up on some island—only to find out now that he was lying damn near dead in a hospital bed. Why hadn’t Cyrus come to him to let him know that his cousin was in trouble? All kinds of thoughts began to play in Phil’s mind, making him both angry and confused. He fell back on the bed and grabbed hold of his head as it began to beat and throb.
* * *
“Where’s my cousin?” Shun interrupted the silence.
“I don’t know.”
“When is the last time you saw him? I need to see him.”
“Last night. I’m sure he’ll be around later. You want to come back by?”
“No. Can you just have him call me?”
“Yes!” Porsha was still hanging on to the hem of Shun’s leather bomber. He had to physically remove her grasp. He held her hand a bit too long, and when he noticed, he quickly shook away from her and turned to jog down the few steps on her porch. Shun nearly forgot about his injuries. He had to stop suddenly before falling face-first on the pavement below. His mind was moving much faster than his body would allow.
* * *
Phil heard his phone chime for about the thirtieth time, but he continued to ignore Brandy’s calls. He couldn’t wait for Porsha to bring her ass back into the back bedroom so he could lay deep into it. Five minutes was much too long to wait. He wanted to confront the situation, but it wasn’t Shun’s fault that Porsha was a low-down dirty bitch.
Porsha was flushed red. She stood on her porch watching as Shun got into his car and drove away. She wouldn’t be able to stay with Phil if she wanted to. Her heart was Shun’s. She couldn’t believe the agony and pain Shun must have been in. She was deep in her thoughts.
Phil decided he couldn’t hold his angry tongue any longer. He rushed from the back room with every intention of laying hands on Porsha. She was in the kitchen frantically looking for something to drink. Her hands were shaking. Phil could tell she was shaken. He hadn’t actually caught sight of Shun, and he could only make out part of the conversation. However, her dishonesty was clear.
“Why didn’t you tell Shun I was here?”
Porsha’s eyes immediately welled with tears. “Phil, Shun was hurt bad. He was shot and nearly killed. Whatever our issues, I think you should go and see your cousin.”
“I heard all I needed to hear. Now, I asked you a question. I’ll handle my cousin. Truth be told, if I had been by his side, none of this would have happened. I blame you too cuz you lied to me. Had me thinkin’ my cousin didn’t want shit to do
with me. What was the real reason behind you bailing me out? You tryin’a set me up or somethin’? Or was turning me against my blood your only mission?”
“I fucked up, Phil. I care about you, but I love Shun.” Porsha braced herself for a possible physical altercation.
Phil balled his fists tight and flexed his arms down, trying hard not to raise them and thrash Porsha. He wanted nothing more than to pummel her to near death. He had risked his life and reputation for a false sense of security with this woman, when all the while, she was just using him to get back at Shun.
“I’m going to go before I kill you, Porsha. Dead ass!”
Porsha stared at Phil with tears in her eyes. She was upset that she hurt him, but all she could truly think of was caring for Shun.
“I’m sorry,” Porsha muttered as the slam of her front door startled her.
* * *
Phil jumped into Porsha’s Mustang and sped down the road. Porsha ran to her front door just as she heard the skid marks. All she saw was the tail end of her vehicle being stolen by Phil. She dared not call the police. She would just wait for him to calm down. He would be back.
* * *
“What it do, Ma?” Phil answered the phone in such a way that set Brandy off immediately. She was white bread, but hood as hell. She was the baby mama who gave Phil the most drama. She just so happened to be the downiest. If Phil would ever truly consider settling down, it would definitely be between Brandy and Monica. Monica was a good look because of her head. She kept it cool and in the books. Brandy, on the other hand, was a hothead. Phil knew he could ride or die with her, no doubt.
“Where the fuck you been? Been callin’ yo’ ass all day.”
“Don’t worry ’bout all that. What’s the matter? How’s my son?”
“Phil’s good. I was just in town, and we wanted to see if you were free to kick it.”
“Naw, I got some shit I gotta handle, and I don’t want my li’l man out here in the midst of it, you feel me? I want you to take him back up to Merced. I’ll come up there and spend a few weeks with you. Just have to iron a few things out.”