Me and My Hittas 4

by Tranay Adams

  Suddenly, the back window of the Yukon exploded as bullets passed through it. Domino floored it away from the scene. Paybacc snuck a peek over the headrest. He saw Pavielle in the middle of the street discharging his burner in their direction.

  Paybacc laughed and said, “Fucking faggot! These niggaz can’t catch The Locsta, cuz.” He turned around back in his seat. Domino glanced at him, but kept on mashing through the residential block through stop signs.

  $$$

  Pavielle lowered his .9mm automatic to his side as it wafted with smoke. He stared at the back lights of the Yukon until it disappeared down the block and into the darkness.

  Gangsta, Gouch, Killa Dre and Creeper ran out into the street to his aide, but it was already too late.

  “You get’em?” Gangsta looked to Pavielle.

  Pavielle shook his head regretfully and said, “No. Let’s get outta here before Binem turn out.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Domino sat on the couch with a sniper rifle lying across his legs. He cleaned the scope of the rifle with a blue bandana and occasionally brushed the top of his head with his palm. It was something he did whenever he had something on his mind that was bugging him. Domino’s eyes held a glassy look to them and he seemed to be hurt about something. He lay back on the couch and watched Paybacc toss bands of wrinkled bills into a duffle bag. A burning cigarette dangled from the corner of his full lips as he went about his business.

  “I’m telling you, Loco, L.A is smaller than a mothafucka.” Paybacc stated, ashes dropping from the end of his cigarette. “Everybody knows everybody out this bitch. Who would have thought our plug had ties with that nigga Gangsta? They almost got me up outta here. If it wasn’t for Wacko biting the bullet I would have been a goner.”

  “Them niggaz got the lil’ homie, cuz. Fuck!” Domino cursed, hating to have lost Wacko. “We should have hopped outta the joint and gave them boys that work.”

  Paybacc snatched the cigarette out of his mouth. “Fuck you talking about? That nigga was gone get it either way, this way his lil’ bitch ass served a purpose. Sheeeiiit, lil’ punk mothafucka was gone try to take me out? Cuz, fuck him and whoever else feel some type of way about’em being gone.” He stared at Domino while taking pulls of his cigarette. His face fixed with a scowl.

  “He wasn’t supposed to go out that way. Cuz suffered. You were going to make sure it was quick and clean.” Domino reasoned. “The slobs done’em up though. He’ll be lucky if he gets an opened casket funeral.”

  “I’ll be damned if I sit here and grieve over a nigga that was gone knock me over. Fuck I look like?” Paybacc asked rhetorically.

  “I’m just saying he shouldn’t have gone out like that.”

  Paybacc narrowed his eyes into slits at Domino. He switched hands with the cigarette and whipped out his Tec-9, pointing it in his direction. Domino was startled and caught off guard. His eyes grew big and his mouth shot open. He knew if he even attempted to move that Paybacc would unload on his monkey ass.

  “What chu saying, cuz? Would you have rather it been me that walked through that door?” Paybacc barked angrily with his finger settled on the trigger of the Tec-9. He loved Domino like he’d skeeted him from his dick, but he’d kill him dead if he thought he felt it should have been him that ended up riddled with bullets and lying a bloody mess instead of Wacko. It would kill him to peel Domino’s cap, but he couldn’t afford to have any weak links in the chain of his organization. Anybody against him had to go, there were no exemptions.

  “Nah, cuz, that’s not what I’m saying.” Domino assured him. “If I felt that way he would be here instead of you. I could have been a snake and went along with Wacko. We could have pushed you and took over the operation, but I kept it G like I’m supposed to. I told him like I’m telling you; I know where my loyalty lies.” He stared his big homie dead in his eyes. He wasn’t afraid of dying, so if he squeezed that trigger he’d embraced death like a relative at a family reunion. Paybacc had taught him to fear nothing and no one, not even death it self.

  Paybacc sat his Tec-9 on top of the stereo and continued tossing the bands into the duffle bag. “I don’t wanna hear anymore about Wacko; tonight was the end of his chapter. I’ll pay for his funeral and lay some paper on his peoples, but that’s it. From now on it’s me and you. It’s up to us to keep this shit moving, cuz. Feel me?” Domino nodded. “I love you, man. You’re my son.” He grabbed Domino by the back of the neck and pulled him close, kissing him on top of the head.

  “I love you, too.”

  “Come on, let’s raise up outta here.” Paybacc slung the duffle bag over his shoulder and waved him on.

  Later that night

  Paybacc watched his daughter dance around her bedroom as she went about the task of cleaning it. As Zora vacuumed, he imagined her growing up before his eyes. She went from six years old to eighteen years old. A rare smile emerged upon Paybacc’s five o’clock shadowed face. It was at that moment that he regretted spending the past thirteen years of her life locked behind bars. He had missed the best part about being a parent, and that was watching your child grow up. If he could press rewind on his life, the bullets that entered the cop he’d shot would go back into his gun, the gun would go back on his waistline, and he’d be spending that night at his baby momma’s house playing with little Zora. He wished his life had a rewind button, but it didn’t. Therefore, he had to finish living out his life and playing the hand that fate had dealt him.

  Paybacc knocked on his daughter’s bedroom window. Zora turned off the vacuum and cautiously approached her bedroom window. She pulled the curtain back and smiled when she saw her father. Paybacc smiled back and pointed toward the front door. Zora nodded yes and left her bedroom. Paybacc stepped upon the porch, looking over his shoulder as he waited for Zora to come to the door. The whole time he kept his thumb hooked in the loop of his Levi’s 501’s right beneath the heater on his waistline. Although Zora and her mother lived in a quiet suburb of Los Angeles, taking precautions was a must. He had a fifty thousand dollar bounty on his head, and he knew a couple of head busters wouldn’t mind traveling a little distance to collect the bread on him. He knew that fifty grand may as well had been $500,000 dollars in this economy.

  Hearing the door coming unchained and the locks coming undone brought Paybacc’s attention to the front door. The door pulled open and Zora stood before him smiling from ear to ear.

  “Come in.” she waved him inside.

  Paybacc shook his head. “Nah, I can’t stay.”

  Zora pulled the door closed and stepped out onto the porch. She kissed her father on the cheek and embraced him. “How are you?”

  “I’m good, how about chu?”

  “I’m straight.” She told him. “It’s pretty cold out here, are you sure you don’t wanna come inside?”

  “This isn’t a social call, baby. I just came to drop you off something.” He handed her a duffle bag. She peered inside and her eyes lit up. “That’s two-hundred large. That’s way more than enough to pay for school and buy your self a car. You can play with the rest.”

  “Daddy, what am I going to do with all of this money?” Zora asked.

  “Exactly what I just told you to do.” Paybacc answered. “Put that up as soon as you go back inside. You don’t want your mother finding out you have it ‘cause she’ll never let chu keep it. She knows how I’m getting it out in these streets and will only see it as blood money.”

  “OK.” Zora slung the duffle bag over her shoulder. She noticed her father looking over his shoulder for the third time since she’d stepped outside. Sensing that something was wrong, her stomach dropped and she wondered what kind of trouble he’d gotten into this time. “Is everything all right? Is someone after you? Is it because of this money?”

  “Nah, your daddy earned that paper, every dollar of it. It’s mine and I’m giving it to you.” He looked her in the eyes.

  “Then why do you keep looking over your shoulder?”

  �
��I gotta situation, but it’s nothing a beast can’t handle.” Paybacc smacked his hand over his heart. “These streets are a safari and I’m a lion; the most feared and ferocious animal of them all. That’s how you gotta be if you ever gonna have a chance of surviving out here.” Zora’s eyes welled up with tears as she stared into her father’s eyes. She was terrified that something was going to happen to him. After thirteen years she’d finally gotten him back. The last thing she wanted was for him to be taken away from her forever. “Why are you crying?” he asked, wiping her tears away with his fingers.

  “I’ve just gotten you back; I don’t wanna lose you again.” Zora’s voice cracked with emotion.

  “Aww, baby, nothing is gonna happen to me.” Paybacc embraced his daughter lovingly. She hugged him with her free arm and allowed the tears to flow freely down her face. Paybacc tried to break his embrace but she held fast, not wanting to let him go. She thought that she’d never be able to hold her father again and wanted to prolong the moment. “I gotta go, Zo.”

  “OK.” She replied, kissing him on the side of his face. “I love you, dad.” She yelled out to him as he walked over to his Chrysler 300.

  “I love you too, baby.” He yelled back.

  “I’ma pray for you.” She replied, wiping the tears from her face.

  “Don’t pray for your daddy, baby. Pray for these fuck-niggaz out here tryna get one up on me.” He hopped into his whip and drove off.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Detective Dupri stood behind his wife with his hands gripping her hips as she chopped up cucumbers for a salad. He placed soft kisses up the side of her neck and nibbled on her ear, causing her nipples to harden and her to smile.

  “Come on, baby, I’m tryna get dinner ready and you playing with my spot.” Mrs. Dupri told him. Her mouth was saying no, but her body was saying yes. She let go of a soft moan as she felt her husband’s bulge against her ample butt, grinding into her. “Come on now, Jeremiah’s here.”

  “Let me get a little taste, I promise I’ll be quick.” He whispered into her ear as he licked up her neck and slid her panties down around her thighs. He already had his zipper undone and his meat was sticking out through the opening. He was so hard that veins were running all through his rod and his dick head was pulsating, pre-cum dripped from the tip of it.

  Dupri took a hold of his cock, using his thumb he attempted to guide his staff into his wife’s wet, pinkness as she hiked her ass up for him.

  “Daddy, Uncle Ryan’s on TV!” young Jerimiah said from the doorway of the kitchen, startling his mother and father. They quickly fixed their clothes and tried to act natural, but it was too late. “What’re you guys doing?” he asked curiously. His forehead creased with a line.

  “Nothing,” Dupri zipped his pants up and ate a cucumber.

  “Unh unh, y’all were finna hump.” Young Jeremiah called his father on his lie.

  “Boy, what chu know about humping somebody.” Dupri threw a sliced cucumber at his son, causing him to laugh and giggle. “Now, who did you say was on the tube?”

  “Uncle Ryan. Come look.” Young Jerimiah grabbed his father by the hand and led him into the living room, his mother followed behind.

  Dupri and his wife sat down on the couch with young Jerimiah sitting between them. They stared intently at the TV screen at the broadcast that playing before them.

  Detective Ryan Arsenegger was captured on camera gunning down Mira Ramirez and Luis Santos. In what was at first believed to be a justifiable homicide has now been confirmed as cold blooded murder, thanks to a video-tape that has been sent in anonymously…

  Dupri watched the rest of the broadcast before hurrying down into the basement and recovering his burn-out cell phone. He took the sim chip out of the cell phone on his waistline and added it to the cell phone he had stashed. He turned the cell on, scrolled through the contacts until he found the number he was looking for, and pressed send. The line rang twice before Detective Maza answered.

  “Aye, you see the news?”

  “Yeah, I’m still watching it, the shits on every channel.” Maza replied already knowing what Dupri was talking about. He was just about to call Dupri but he’d beaten him to it.

  “This is bad, Maza, this is really fucking bad.” Dupri said, rubbing his bald head. “These guys know a lotta shit about us, they have more than enough dirt to bury us alive.”

  “What’re you talking about?” Maza asked. “It’s those two assholes that got caught popping a couple of kids. What does this have to do with us?”

  “Bargaining chips, they may sing like The Temptations for a lighter sentence.”

  “How do you even know that they’ll say anything?”

  “I don’t, and neither do you, so why take a chance? Let’s nip this problem in the butt before it manifests. I gotta career and a family to take care of, I’m not tryna spend the rest of my days in a six nine surrounded by concrete and steel, how about you?”

  “I’ll get on the line with Thorn.”

  “That’s what I thought.” Dupri said. “Tell’em to get suited and booted, we’re on this tonight. We can’t afford to let anyone else get a hold of them.”

  “Right, gimmie an hour and we’ll be ready.” Maza told him. “Where do you wanna meet?”

  “My house,” Dupri glanced at his watch. “Be here by ten o’clock.”

  “Gotcha,” Maza said.

  They both hung up.

  An hour later

  “I gotta plan that will rid us of our friend for good.” Arsenegger said to Ortiz from across the table. They were sitting at the center of the basement. A lone light bulb hung from a chain from the ceiling illuminating a light over their heads. The detectives had bottles of Budweiser sitting beside them. Photographs of Black Jesus and Bullet were scattered over the table.

  Ortiz blew smoke into the air and mashed his cigarette out in the ashtray. “What chu got up your sleeve?”

  “I’ve been watching his daily routine for the past few days now.” Arsenegger told him. “I know his schedule like the lumps on the back of my head. Every Tuesday night he and his brother go to Hollywood Park for the horse races. I figure we can sneak inside the parking lot and stick one of these puppies underneath his car.” He sat a small block of an explosive on the table and Ortiz picked it up.

  “This is an explosive, right?” Ortiz asked, testing the weight of the explosive.

  “Yeah,” Arsenegger nodded. “Makes quite the bang too, all I gotta do is press this button.” He pointed to the button on the detonator in his palm.

  “Ka-boom; blow that mothafucka right up.” Ortiz slapped hands with Arsenegger and snapped his fingers.

  Hearing the doorbell chime from upstairs, Arsenegger gathered everything up and stuffed it inside of a gymbag labeled L.A.P.D with a police shield emblazoned on it. Together, he and Ortiz headed up the staircase and into the living room.

  “I’m gonna grab a cold one for the road.” Arsenegger tapped Ortiz before heading into the kitchen.

  “Go ahead, man. Help yourself.” Ortiz told him as he headed for the front door.

  As Arsenegger rummaged through the refrigerator he could hear Ortiz in the living room. “Yo, Ryan, guess who’s here!” he yelled out from the living room. After Arsenegger grabbed a beer from the refrigerator, he looked through the kitchen drawer for a bottle-opener.

  “You mothafuckaz are all over the news, man.” Dupri told Ortiz.

  “For what?” Ortiz asked curiously.

  “You stood by while Ryan gunned down a young Mexican couple.” Thorn filled him in. “The shit is all over the news; the police are probably on their way here now to pick you guys up.”

  “We gotta sneak you and Ryan outta the country before it’s too late.” Maza added. “Is your family here?”

  “No. They’re at Cinthia’s sister’s house.”

  “Alright, where’s Ryan? We gotta get you two outta here.” Dupri said.

  Arsenegger stood inside of the kitchen listening
to everything that was said as he took swigs of his beer. His heart quickened when he heard that there was footage on the news of him gunning down the young Mexican couple. He knew that there was no way in hell that he was going to prison for double murder. He wasn’t built for prison life and he was willing to hold court in the streets if it came down to it.

  “He’s in the kitchen, follow…” Ortiz was cut short by the silenced whisper of a gun. The next thing Arsenegger heard was a loud thud when his body hit the floor.

  Arsenegger moved to see what was going on, but before he could reach the kitchen doorway Dupri, Maza and Thorn were already coming through it. They pointed their silenced handguns at Arsenegger and he threw open the freezer and refrigerator doors. The metal subzero temperature refrigerator took the bullets meant for Arsenegger, subcoming to dents with every slug that it took. Arsenegger stooped down before the refrigerator door and held it tightly as he peered through the opening between it and the freezer door. Through it he could see all three of his former comrades blasting away at him. He stuck his burner between the openings and cracked off a few rounds, hitting Thorn in the thigh and Maza in the leg. The two men went down howling in pain. Two rounds struck Dupri’s chest, but they only caused him to stagger back since he was wearing armor under his garments. Dupri took a quick moment to check on his comrades. Seeing that they only had flesh wounds, he extended his handgun before him and approached the refrigerator cautiously. Arsenegger shot out from behind the refrigerator door running toward the back porch. He threw all of his body weight into the backdoor and it broke free of its hinges, crashing to the ground. Arsenegger tucked and rolled onto the lawn of the backyard. He came up running toward the swimming pool with bullets whizzing over his head. He dived into the pool and came up on the other side, shaking the water from his head like a wet dog.

  Dupri slowly approached Arsenegger with one eye closed and his gun extended before him. He had a marksman’s aim and was a dead shot with any firearm. Seeing that Dupri had the drop on him, Arsenegger decided to throw in the towel.