Knee Deep in the Game

by Boston George

  “Yeah, and that means you know where the nigga’s stash spots is at, right?” Bamboo asked greedily.

  “He switches them shits up every week,” Tito said. “But I do know where all his cookup spots is at.”

  “Damn, why you ain’t been said nothing about this?” Bamboo said excitedly.

  “I forgot all about that shit,” Tito chuckled. “But fuck all that, I want Fresh.”

  “Well, we both know he’s too much of a pussy to play the streets so I guess we going to have to smoke him out,” Bamboo stated plainly.

  “Fuck it, let the games begin.”

  Fresh cruised down the street in his Benz listening to a Stack Bundles mix tape, when out of the blue he noticed flashing lights in his rearview mirror. “Shit!” he cursed loudly as he pulled over to the side of the road. He quickly slipped his .45 in the stash box on his dashboard. He also put out the blunt he’d been smoking. “Ain’t this about a bitch,” Fresh said to himself as he looked in his rearview mirror and saw three more cars pull up behind him.

  “Hands on the steering wheel,” a uniform cop yelled, flashing the light from his flashlight in Fresh’s face while the other officers surrounded the car.

  Fresh sighed loudly as he did what he was told. The officer then roughly grabbed him from out of the car and tossed him on the floor and cuffed him.

  “What did I do!” Fresh yelled as he felt the officers searching through his pockets, while the rest of the officers searched his car. “I didn’t even do nothing!” Fresh yelled as he struggled to not let them put him in the back of the squad car. Once the officers saw Fresh resisting arrest they immediately began swinging their night sticks at his legs until he hit the ground.

  “You had to do things the hard way,” the head officer said as dragged Fresh into the back of the squad car and took him down to the station.

  Rusty parked the Ford Explorer directly in front of the house that he was headed for. Before Rusty reached the front door he made sure he threw his gloves on along with his hoodie, as he proceeded to kick in the front door. Tito’s mother almost shitted on herself when she saw her front door fly open. Immediately Rusty back-slapped Tito’s mot-her with the .45, sending her crashing to the kitchen floor. Before he could strike her again, he noticed Tito’s father come running into the living room.

  Before the elderly man knew what was going on two shots to both of his kneecaps sent him straight on his back. Once Tito’s mother heard the loud gunshots ring out she immediately grabbed her heart and began gasping for air. Rusty looked on for about thirty seconds until the woman stopped moving. “Weak-ass bitch,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. He then proceeded to search the entire house, hoping Tito had a safe or a stash somewhere inside the house. As Rusty searched through the house he made sure he tore the place up. He walked over to the nice wall unit and pulled the whole shit down, leaving a big mess. He flipped over all the couches, the mattress, and anything else he could as he continued his search. After about ten minutes of searching Rusty made his way back to the living room and placed the .45 to Tito’s father’s head.

  “I know Tito got a stash in here somewhere now where is it?” Rusty growled.

  “Ain’t no stash. He never keeps drugs or money here,” Tito’s father answered, still clutching both of his kneecaps.

  “Last time I’m gonna ask you, old man,” Rusty stated in an even tone. When the old man didn’t answer Rusty began to beat the old man with the .45 until his face looked like tomato soup. That still didn’t stop him; he continued to pound on the old man’s face, lecturing him the whole time.

  “You think it’s a fuckin’ a game?” Rusty snarled as noticed the old man wasn’t moving anymore. A wicked smile appeared on his face as he stood up and admired his work. He took a quick look around, then walked right back out the front door like nothing ever even happened.

  “Who’s the owner of this store?” The Chinese detective asked.

  “Who’s concerned?” Mannie shot back, obeying one of the street commandments: Always give the police a hard time.

  “Who the fuck is asking, shitface?” the Chinese Detective responded.

  “I’m sorry, Detective, but I don’t speak no English,” Mannie stated as he tossed a piece of gum in his mouth.

  “I’ll be back with a warrant, and when I come back I’m going to tear this place up,” the Chinese detective warned. The detective fought to control his temper as he quietly exited the bodega.

  Fresh sat in the bullpen, sitting on the hard bench with a thousand thoughts running through his mind. The police told him that he was in jail for assaulting Tito’s cousin Jasmine. It didn’t matter to Fresh, though, because he knew he would soon be getting bailed out. Sitting in jail wasn’t a problem to him. His problem was the police—he couldn’t stand them. Inside they were the toughest people in the world, but if you were to ever see them out in the streets it was a different story. Fresh sat in the bullpen waiting to get bailed out when he saw this dirty, rough-looking man walk into the bullpen. Immediately Fresh didn’t like the man. The dirty man came in the bullpen sneezing and coughing. “Damn,” he snarled as he held one of his nostrils and blew snot out of his nose onto the floor a little bit too close to Fresh.

  “Yo, watch that shit,” Fresh said with his face screwed up. “Nasty mu’fucka!”

  “Fuck you,” the dirty man countered. “This a free country last time I checked.” The dirty man continued: “You young boys think y’all all that until somebody knock y’all the fuck out.”

  Fresh hopped up with the quickness and stole on the dirty man, dropping him off impact alone. He then quickly hopped up on top of the man and began raining punches on the man exposed face until the dirty man stopped moving.

  Fresh stomped the man’s head into the pavement one last time before he left the man alone. He walked back over to his seat and just left the dirty man laid out in the middle of the floor. The rest of the inmates just acted like nothing ever happened and continued on doing whatever it was they were doing.

  “Que hora es?” Tito asked, trying to find out what time it was.

  “It’s 5:45 P.M.” Maria answered.

  Maria loved being Tito’s main girl; she had a pretty face and a nice body. Her good looks fooled a lot of people ... this Dominican was far from an angel. Maria grew up in the street, plus being involved with Tito for so long, drama was a small thing to her.

  “What the fuck is taking your fat-ass sister so long?” Tito asked, getting upset.

  “Shut up, papi,” Maria said from the passenger seat.

  “There her fat ass go right there,” Tito said, pointing at the two-hundred-and-fifty-pound woman.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Amber said as the whole car got lower once she got inside.

  “Now where the fuck are we going?” Tito asked with an attitude. He hated helping Maria’s sister; every week it was something new with her.

  “I told you we going to the supermarket ‘cause Amber don’t have any food for her kids,” Maria said rolling her eyes.

  “She probably ate it all,” Tito mumbled as he pulled into the supermarket parking lot.

  Inside the supermarket Nika stood on the long-ass line waiting to pay for her groceries. All she could think about was leaving to go to Miami. She had never been outside of New York and was so looking forward to the move. But more importantly she was excited for Pop. She knew he badly needed a change of scenery. Just by the way he’d been acting lately she could tell something was bothering him, but she knew he would never just come out and tell her, and she didn’t ask because she didn’t want to be a nag so instead, she just left the situation alone and just continued to count down the days until it was time for the two to leave. Nika stepped out of the supermarket and headed straight for her car.

  “Get the fuck out of here,” Tito said out loud as he spotted Nika coming out of the supermarket carrying more bags then she could handle.

  “What’s wrong, baby?” Maria asked curiously.

&nbs
p; “That bitch right there slapped me the other day because I didn’t want to talk to her,” Tito lied.

  “Who?” Maria blurted out.

  “Shorty right there with the fucked-up weave,” Tito said, pointing. Without hesitation Maria and Amber hopped out the vehicle and ran over to catch up to the woman.

  Nika headed to her car when out of nowhere a solid blow caught her in the back of her head. The impact from the blow caused Nika to drop her groceries as she struggled to stay on her feet. Once she regained her balance she quickly threw a wild right hook that connected with Maria’s jaw. Nika quickly followed up with a left uppercut as she dragged Maria to the ground by her hair.

  Before Nika could get another hit off she saw a bigger woman running at her full speed. She did the best she could to block the blow but the force from the big woman’s punch still managed to move Nika’s whole body.

  Before Nika could swing back, Maria had busted her over the head with a gallon of milk that fell out of her grocery bag. “Fuckin’ bitch!” Maria screamed in rage as she and Amber rained blow after blow on Nika’s exposed face until it was covered with blood and cuts from the rings the two women wore.

  “Hey, that’s enough,” an innocent bystander shouted as he attempted to break up the fight.

  “Yo, my man, mind your fuckin’ business,” Tito said, placing his P89 to the man’s rib cage.

  Once the crowd started getting too large Tito figured it was time to be out. “Yo, that’s it, we out,” Tito said, breaking up the fight. “Tell your punk-ass boyfriend he’s next,” he said as he kicked Nika in the face before he disappeared through the crowd.

  “That’s what the fuck I’m talking about,” Tito said, watching the scene disappear through his rearview mirror.

  “Fuck that, don’t nobody be putting they hands on my man,” Maria said, trying to fix her hair in the small mirror.

  “Yo, here, you going to have to take a cab to another supermarket,” Tito said, handing Amber $300 dollars as he dropped her off at her apartment.

  “Call me later, girl,” Amber said to her sister right before the vehicle pulled off.

  “That was good work back there baby,” Tito said, kissing Maria on the cheek.

  “You know I’ll do anything for you, papi,” she responded, fiddling with the radio.

  “Oh, shit, I forgot I was supposed to do your mother’s hair today,” she blurted out.

  “Well, you can’t because we going out tonight,” Tito said, stroking Maria’s hair.

  “That’s not right, Tito,” she told him.

  “Fuck that, do her hair tomorrow,” he dismissed.

  “But I promised her I would do it today; at least take me over there so I can tell her I’ll do it tomorrow,” Maria huffed.

  “Use your cell phone and just call her,” Tito stated with a wave of his hand.

  “Tito, stop being lazy and take me over there,” Maria demanded.

  “You get on my fuckin’ nerves,” Tito snarled as he made a detour.

  “And then he kicked me in my face,” Nika said, trying to stop the tears from flowing as she sat on the couch.

  “It’s going to be okay, baby,” Pop said, trying to calm his woman down. “Stop crying, baby, you know I’m going to make that mu’fucka pay for this shit when I catch his ass.”

  “I know, baby, I did the best I could,” Nika sobbed.

  “I know, baby, that’s why they had to jump you,” Pop said, putting an emotional bandage on her ego.

  “I’m going to wear that big bitch out if I catch her by myself,” Nika said, replaying the whole scene in her head.

  “Nah, baby, I’m going to take care of this you just get your shit ready to leave next week,” he said as he placed a clip in his 9 mm.

  “I’ll be back, I’m going to go see if I can catch one of these mu’fuckas slipping,” Pop stated flatly as he threw on his hoodie, and headed out the door.

  Fresh walked out the bookings with a frown on his face. “Racist mu’fuckas!” he growled as he slid in the passenger seat of the ride that awaited him.

  “Fuck took you so long?” Rusty asked as he pulled off.

  “Fuckin’ pigs had me sitting in there for three extra hours for nothing,” Fresh complained. “I had to fuck me a nigga up in there and all that.”

  “Word?” Rusty laughed. “All in a day’s work.”

  “How did that other thing go?” Fresh asked as he grabbed the blunt from out the ashtray and lit it up.

  “A piece of cake,” Rusty chuckled. “When I catch that bitch-ass nigga Tito I might just kill him with my bare hands.”

  “We going to catch him,” Fresh said in between puffs. “It’s just a matter of time,” he said convincingly.

  “That mu’fucka better just keep on hiding,” Rusty said, still mad that Tito and the other men at the bar had fucked him up.

  “Patience, just have some patience,” Fresh said, plucking his ashes out the window. “Tito’s pride is gonna bring him out of hiding. You just wait and see.”

  “Well, he need to hurry up because I’m tired of playing games with this clown,” Rusty huffed. “Matter of fact, I might just go out riding tonight looking for that clown.”

  “Shit, if I know Tito the way I think I do I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d be out riding looking for us,” Fresh said, leaning his seat all the way back.

  “What the fuck is this?” Tito asked as he saw the always-dark street lit up by the many police cars. Immediately Tito passed his P89 to Maria. She had been through this drill a million times. She quickly tossed the gun in her pocket book like it was not a crime.

  “What the fuck is going on here?” Tito asked a police officer as his tinted window came rolling down.

  “Sir, just keep on moving, this matter doesn’t concern you!” the rednecked officer answered.

  “I live here, mu’fucka,” Tito yelled as he hopped out of the vehicle and ran toward his mother’s house.

  “I’m sorry, you can’t go any further,” another police officer said as he restrained him.

  “You are going to have to wait until the detectives finish looking around, sir.”

  “Well, can you at least tell me what the fuck is going on?” Tito asked the officer.

  “It seems like a burglary took place. The man of the house took two shots to his legs and the woman of the house seems to have had a heart attack.” Immediately Tito broke down into tears. He already knew what time it was; he knew this was the work of Fresh, because Fresh was the very man who had trained him.

  Tito no longer wanted to go inside, instead he grabbed Maria by the wrist and jumped back inside his vehicle, driving away from the house he had once grown up in.

  “Are you okay?” Maria asked.

  Tito didn’t answer, instead he remained silent. The thoughts that were racing through his mind were ones of an insane person. His mother was all he had and now that she was gone there was no telling what he would do.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Week Four

  “Melissa, Melissa!” Pop yelled.

  When he didn’t get an answer he quickly snatched his 9 mm from his waistband and checked the entire hotel room, making sure no one was inside.

  “I told her not to leave this fuckin’ room,” Pop said to himself, wondering where she could be.

  After thirty minutes of waiting he heard a key unlock the top lock on the door, followed by the bottom lock. Melissa strolled in, never noticing Pop sitting there as she came in with her hands full of bags.

  “Where the fuck you been?”

  “Oh, shit, Pop, you scared the shit out of me, why are you sitting here in the dark?” Melissa said, startled.

  “Didn’t I tell you not to leave this fuckin’ hotel room?” Pop growled.

  “Yeah, I know, I just went to Victoria’s Secret so I could get me a few new pieces, so I could put on a show for you later,” she said naively. She meant well, but her actions were so stupid.

  “Why can’t you just listen?”
he asked smugly.

  “Pop I’ve been stuck in this hotel room for three weeks, three long boring weeks, I don’t see why I can’t go to the fuckin’ store—”

  Before Melissa could even finish pleading her case they were both caught off guard when their hotel room door flew open. Pop quickly grabbed his 9 mm from off of the coffee table and aimed it at the gunman. He hesitated to pull the trigger when he saw Rusty standing in front of his cannon.

  “Rusty, what the fuck are you doing here?” Pop asked, lowering his gun.

  “I was coming to kill this bitch,” Rusty answered, pointing at Melissa as he too lowered his weapon.

  “Rusty, why are you trying to kill me?” Melissa asked, confused. “If I tell Fresh about this you know he going to hand you your ass,” she stated boldly.

  “Bitch, Fresh is the one who hired Pop to kill your sister, but he didn’t have the balls to do you too that’s why I’m here,” Rusty said, aiming his .357 at the beautiful woman.

  “I didn’t have the balls? Nigga what the fuck you think I’m doing here right now? I was just about to smoke this bitch until you came busting up in here,” Pop stated sharply. “Now I ain’t even going to be able to get no pussy before I kill her!”

  “If you want we both could get some pussy,” Rusty said, looking at Melissa’s nice body with a hungry look in his eyes.

  “Nah, I have to do this alone,” Pop stated aggressively.

  “You got it, Pop, just make sure you leave her in this hotel room so it can make the news, that way Fresh can verify you accomplished your mission.”

  “Not a problem,” Pop responded as he escorted Rusty to the door.

  “Holla at me when it’s all said and done,” Rusty said as he gave Pop a pound then disappeared through the front door. Pop slammed the front door then turned toward Melissa.

  “You a real piece of shit you know that?” Melissa snarled as tears ran freely from her eyes.