I parked in a spot near the door, rushed inside the restaurant, and placed my order at the counter.
“Can I get a twenty-piece hot with a side of fries? All flats please.” I thought about Pistol, so I got extra.
“That’ll be a dollar more for all flats,” said the chick behind the counter, acting like I didn’t know that.
“Okay,” I agreed with a nod.
After paying for my food, I grabbed my receipt and my drink, then sat down at a table to wait for my order. I spotted this chick from my neighborhood named Quita. That ho wasn’t cool with me at all. All she had ever wanted to do was instigate and start fights. We’d gotten into it a few times because I’d called her out on her bullshit, but the ho had only talked shit and had not fought me. I guessed I had too much heart for her to try it. She stared at me now, while she talked to somebody on the phone. It was clear from her hand gestures and facial expressions that she was talking shit. All I did was shake my head and send Pistol a text.
Hey, babe. I got some good news for you. I’m grabbing something to eat, and then I’ll be on my way.
I didn’t expect for him to respond right away, but after ten minutes, when he still hadn’t texted me back, I started to get worried. Maybe he just hadn’t checked his phone or was busy or something. He had told me that he was going to meet up with Dank so they could talk. Of course, Mike was all fucked up in the hospital, and they were trying to find out who had run him over.
Something told me that it was connected to G’s murder. Maybe Mario had said something to the wrong person, and the BHM had gone after Mike. What if they had run him over instead of shooting him, because that would have made it look like an obvious gang hit? They might have meant to make it look like something else.
“One twenty-one!” I heard the chick behind the counter call out.
Looking down at my receipt, I realized that was me. I was so glad that it hadn’t taken long for my order to come up. That bitch Quita kept on mean mugging me, and I wasn’t in the mood for any bullshit. Maybe I should’ve just grabbed something to eat in Buckhead, I thought. The thing was, the food in the hood tasted so much better.
I got up from my seat and walked up to the counter. Old girl behind the counter flashed me a pleasant look as she opened the Styrofoam box for me to check my order. Everything looked good, so I put seasoned salt on my fries.
“Ranch or blue cheese?” old girl asked.
“Both please. I like to mix them up,” I confessed.
She laughed good-naturedly. “Now, I ain’t never heard nobody say that before.”
“I know. It’s weird.”
After she put my food in a bag, I left the spot and headed to my car. Once I was behind the wheel, I threw the bag on the passenger seat and then put on my seat belt. When I looked up, I saw that Quita was standing outside now, her eyes on me. She just stood there and stared at me as I pulled out of the parking spot.
If I wasn’t so focused on getting away from the mentality of the streets right now, I would’ve asked that bitch what she was looking at. Instead, I headed back to Pistol’s condo so that I could grub and get some rest before my first day of work. If only everything in Pistol’s life would start to fall in line. I wished his charges would just disappear, but I knew better.
The music was blasting in my car, and I sang along to Drake’s “Hotline Bling.” Dang. Was the road bumpy, or was that my car? What the fuck? I turned the music down and recognized the familiar thump of a flat tire. The traffic was thick as hell, so I decided to pull off on a side road. Shit. I remembered that I had a spare in the trunk, but I didn’t have a fucking jack. Fuck! It was dark as hell, and the road that I was on didn’t have many streetlights.
After pulling out my phone, I called Pistol. There was no answer. My heartbeat quickened when I realized that I was fucked. My next move was to contact Uber, but I didn’t want to just leave my car there on the side of the road, only to come back and find it gone or sitting on bricks. Why hadn’t I made sure that my roadside assistance was up to date? Rae was supposed to have paid it for me, but of course, he hadn’t. I’d forgotten all about that shit. Damn.
I called Pistol again. He picked up this time.
“Hey, babe. Sorry I didn’t answer before, but—”
“I got a flat. I’m gonna need you to come help me change it. I don’t have a jack, but there’s a spare in the trunk.”
After putting my gun in the waist of my jeans like a goon, I got out of the car and went to look at the back tires. I was in a bad neighborhood, so I had to make sure I was strapped. There was a puncture in my right back tire, and it looked like somebody had intentionally flattened it. I hadn’t run over something, like I’d initially thought.
“Shit, babe. Where you at?” Pistol’s voice broke through my thoughts.
“It looks like somebody stabbed my tire.”
Just then a car pulled up, and its bright headlights temporarily blinded me. Maybe someone would be able to help, and I wouldn’t have to wait for Pistol. All I needed to know was if they had a jack for me to use. I wasn’t one of those chicks who didn’t know how to change my own tire. Shit, I’d learned how to survive. Then I thought about the worst-case scenario. What if they were there to rob me or something?
“Get back in the car, Ma. Where you at, so I can come to you?” Pistol said.
The car’s headlights went off; then the driver’s-side door opened. After that the passenger-side door flew open. When I saw that bitch Quita walking toward me, I didn’t know what to think. Then I spotted Kevia walking toward me too. When had those bitches started hanging together? Suddenly, I knew what it was all about. It all came together. Quita must’ve called to tell Kevia that I was at the wing spot, which was less than ten minutes from where Kevia lived. That bitch had to be the one who flattened my tire. Those hoes were so damn dramatic.
“I knew I’d get your ass, but I didn’t think it would happen so soon, bitch,” Kevia said, with a smirk on her face.
“I had to call you, girl. I ain’t never liked that prissy-ass bitch. Can’t believe that ho didn’t even support you after your brother died. Didn’t even show up at the funeral. What kinda fuckin’ friend is that? I knew I should’ve whupped that ass,” Quita commented as they closed the distance between us.
“What the fuck’s goin’ on?” Pistol asked. I hadn’t answered his question, and he could probably hear the women’s voices.
Shit. I couldn’t depend on him to get me out of this situation. It would take too long for him to get here. Not many cars came down that road, because it led to a subdivision. It was also pitch black outside without the glare of headlights. By the time somebody turned down here, I could be dead. Even if I wasn’t, it was the damn hood. Those hoes could jump me or shoot my ass, and people would just drive right on by.
“Shit. Kevia and some other bitch are here to fight me or something. I gotta go.”
“Where you at, Ma! Shit!”
“Off of Panola. It’s a little side road not far from J.R. Crickets.”
“Baby, why the hell would you go back over there?”
Honestly, because I didn’t think Quita would be there to report my moves to Kevia. That ho didn’t scare me, but she tended to let other people boost her head up. Quita was like fuel to a fire. She lived for that type of shit.
“Who the fuck you talkin’ to, bitch? The police?” Kevia asked, thinking she was taunting me.
I hung up the phone and threw it on the driver’s seat. Then I felt the weight of the gun. It reminded me that I was strapped, and I relaxed. Still, I didn’t know if those hoes had guns too.
“That ho gon’ get in the car and cry like a li’l scary bitch.” Quita laughed, looking at Kevia. “You can’t go nowhere. If you do get in the car, we’ll just bust the windows out. Either way, we gon’ get you, bitch!”
With what? I wondered. They didn’t have anything in their hands to bust the windows out with. Then the thought of them both being strapped occurred to m
e. Two guns were definitely better than one. Still, I had to let them know that I wasn’t scared.
“Fuck y’all lame-ass bitches,” I snarled. “You could’ve fought me right then and there, Kevia. You didn’t have to flatten my damn tire and shit!”
She was right in front of me. “I did that shit ’cause I ain’t want nobody to save your life, ho! I’m gon’ finish the job for my cousin. I can’t stand a disrespectful-ass bitch.”
With that said, the bitch pulled out a sharp-ass pocketknife. I laughed out loud as I pulled out my strap and pointed it at her. That ho knew I had a gun, but she had still come unprepared.
“You swear you hard, but you brought a knife to a gunfight,” I said. I shook my head, taking in the shocked look on both their faces.
They had underestimated me, and they didn’t know that what I’d been through had made it so that a bad bitch they didn’t recognize was standing in front of them.
“Shit!” Quita gasped, not expecting for the tables to turn. “I told you to get the fuckin’ strap outta the car!”
“This the second time you done pointed a fuckin’ gun in my face, bitch,” Kevia growled. “You gon’ shoot me for real? Yeah, right! You ain’t never shot nobody in your fuckin’ life! There probably ain’t even no bullets in that mu’fucka, you soft-ass bi—”
As if it was second nature, my finger squeezed the trigger, and four shots rang out before I even knew I’d fired the gun. They both fell to the ground, and I didn’t even know where they’d been shot, because it was so dark. I jumped in my car and turned the key in the ignition. Getting very far away on that fucked-up tire was impossible, but I had to get away from the crime scene before the police came.
Chapter 23
Pistol
I’d talked to Dank earlier that day, and we were supposed to meet up at the pool hall. After waiting almost two hours, I realized that nigga wasn’t going to show up. I tried calling his phone, but he wasn’t answering. What the hell was going on? Did that nigga have something to hide? With Mike in the hospital, I had no other way to get in contact with him. I didn’t know what to think.
Dank and Mike were my cousins on my father’s side. Their mother, who was my father’s only sister, had been killed four years ago by her husband, who had then turned the gun on himself. My uncle Quentin, whose house me and Daisha had stayed at, was my mother’s only brother. He was a little younger than her and wasn’t involved in the streets at all. He was a computer engineer and traveled a lot. My mother’s mother had died years ago, and her father had never been around. My father’s mother had let him and his sister go into the foster-care system when they were little. That was my family pretty much in a nutshell.
I guessed my finding Daisha and falling for her was right on time, because I needed somebody. The thought of something happening to her devastated me, and it hurt like hell just thinking about it. Why hadn’t she just listened to me when I told her to stay away from her old hood? She thought that because Rae wasn’t on the streets, she was good, but it was clear that the bitch she’d once thought was her friend really never was.
I called her phone for the tenth time since she’d called me, and it went to the voice mail again. The J.R. Crickets restaurant was right in front of me now, but I had no clue what side road to go down. Shit! Then my phone rang. It was her.
Letting out a sigh of relief, I answered. “Baby, are you okay?”
“Yes, but I … I had to shoot them. I don’t know if they dead.”
She told me the name of the apartment complex that she’d managed to drive to, and I went to Google Maps to find it.
“I’ll be there in two minutes, Ma. Stay in the car.”
Hopefully, she’d listen this time, with her hardheaded ass. Damn. My baby had had to kill again. That shit was fucked up, because I didn’t want that life for her. Still, it was good to know that she did have the instinct to save her own life. What if she was feeling guilty because she knew her victims personally this time? That shit could’ve been the other way around, though, and then I’d feel like I was incomplete.
With everything that was going on, Daisha had given me a reason not to give up. If she was not in my life, I didn’t know if I’d ever be capable of falling in love again. Being in love with a woman like her was actually a good feeling, and I wouldn’t trade that shit in for the world. Thank God my baby girl was okay.
When I pulled up behind Daisha’s whip minutes later, I didn’t see her. That shit made me go into panic mode. After parking in an empty space a couple of spaces down from her, I got out and then walked over to her car. The sound of sirens filled the night, and I already knew what it was. I’d avoided the road on which the shooting had taken place. The cops and EMTs had got there fast, because I’d seen the lights from a distance.
Daisha was all ducked down in the driver’s seat, as if she was hiding. I knocked on the window, and she looked up, with tears in her eyes. More than likely, she had heard the sirens too and was afraid that the cops would find her. She was clutching her cell phone in her hand, and when my baby spotted me, she looked so relieved. As she opened the door, I looked around to make sure that the coast was clear. We were going to have to get up out of there fast.
“C’mon, Ma. We gon’ have to leave your car here for now. I’ll get it taken care of later, okay?” I stared into her eyes, and she only nodded.
I picked her up and carried her to my car. She rested her head on my shoulder and started sobbing hard as hell.
“Why the fuck is this shit happenin’ to me!” she wailed.
“Shhh … It’s gonna be okay, baby,” I said, trying to soothe her.
“No it’s not! I had to shoot two people. I can’t deal with this shit, Pistol!” she wailed, her words incomprehensible to anybody other than me.
After I put her in the passenger seat, I strapped her in and got behind the wheel. “Look, Ma. We gotta get outta here, okay? But I gotta let you know one thing. It was either you or them bitches, and if you had let them kill you, I wouldn’t have forgiven your ass.”
As she looked over at me with vulnerable eyes, she wiped her tears away and nodded.
Nothing else was said, but my head was full of thoughts. Why the hell had she chanced going out there?
“My wings … ,” she whispered just when I was about to pull off. “Get my wings out the car.”
*
“Where do you think he could be?” Daisha asked me when I told her that I couldn’t find Dank.
“I don’t know, Ma. That’s the crazy-ass part about it.”
We were smoking a much-needed blunt at the crib, and I was at a loss about what to do next. Then shawty dropped a bombshell on me when she let me in on the fact that she had a new job and the fact that one of the clients knew Diablo.
“But you don’t know if it’s the same Diablo my mom’s talkin’ ’bout,” I commented.
Daisha’s tears were finally gone. “That’s not a common name, Pistol. I’m sure it’s the same Diablo.” She passed me the blunt and sighed.
“So, why didn’t you tell me that you had a job interview?”
“I didn’t want you to talk me out of going.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I would’ve tried. Why the hell did you go to your old hood, Ma? I told you not to do that.”
“It sounds stupid, but I was craving some damn hot wings. There’s wing spots around here, but they ain’t as good. I didn’t expect that to happen. What if the police …”
“There ain’t no evidence against you, Ma. They ain’t got no weapon, you drove away from the scene, and I’m sure nobody saw shit. As long as you keep your mouth shut, you cool.”
“Who do I talk to ’bout shit like that other than you?” she asked. “You ain’t gotta worry ’bout that.”
“Good thing your job ain’t far from here, Ma. I’m proud of you, but be careful, though. You see, shit can happen that you don’t expect. You never know. You sure your wanna take that job right now? You really don’t have to.”
That was so true, and they could both identify her. Then the thought of Dank’s disappearing act crossed my mind. What if that shit was more sinister than him just avoiding me?
*
A few days had passed, and I still hadn’t heard anything from Dank. Dank’s phone kept going to voice mail, and so I went over there earlier today, but he wasn’t home. What the hell was going on? Had the BHM come after Dank and Mike, and if so, was I next? At that point, I didn’t even know how Mike was doing. I decided to just go ahead and visit him. It was the only way I could find out if he was still alive or if he’d heard from Dank.
When I got to the hospital, the waiting room was full. With my head down slightly, I walked over to the front desk. Dank had told me that Mike was in ICU, and I was sure that it wouldn’t be that easy for me to just go to his room.
“Hello. Can I help you, sir?” the front desk attendant asked politely.
“Hi. Yes. I’m here to see Michael Gordon.”
She pressed some keys on the computer keyboard in front of her and then looked up at me. “Room one-twenty-eight. Just go through those double doors.” She pointed. “He was moved out of ICU earlier today.”
“Thank you.” I guessed the fact that he’d been moved to a regular room was a good sign.
When I walked in his room, there was a short, brown-skinned nurse mopping his forehead with a wet cloth. He was obviously still out of it, but the constant beep of the heart monitor let me know that cuz was still alive. At least there wasn’t a respirator or tubes everywhere, so that meant he was breathing on his own. He looked like he was banged up a little bit, but not as bad as Dank had made it seem.
Love's Grip Page 19