by King, Deja
“Thanks man.”
Block’s wife led the way as Murder Mitch closely followed behind them. He walked inside where it looked like a large apartment in itself. “Can I offer you something to drink?” he asked as he entered into his office.
“I’m good.”
“So I guess we can get straight down to business?”
Kandi came over to pour her husband a glass of grapefruit juice and placed it on the coaster that sat atop the shiny oak table.
“Most def,” Murder Mitch replied.
“Hand me that briefcase.” Kandi retrieved the briefcase from the desk and sat it in front of him. She finally popped it open. “This fifty thousand and you know how we do. When it’s done, I’ll have that other half for you.”
“Fo’sho. But check, how you want this done?”
“Like I said before, I know you can get the shit off, but I want you to take it slow! ‘Cause I don’t want this to be a fuck up. Nigga very wary and stay on his toes. Take your time so this shit won’t be messy,” Block said as his phone rang. It was his cousin. He hadn’t talked to him since he’d been released from prison so he had to take the call. “I need to take this. Hold on a minute.” Block answered, “What took you so long to call me, nigga?” He leaned back in his chair relaxingly as he focused in on the call.
“Man, unfinished business, B.”
“Well did you get that li’l shit taken care of?” he asked.
“Tried to, but let me put you on game, nigga.” D-Boy filled his cousin in on how his baby mother had played him on his money and how he assumed it went down. “Guess they thought I wasn’t gettin’ out, family,” he sighed in frustration.
“Yeah I tried to tell you about them all-about-money NY bitches. Can’t trust ‘im, family.”
“I know. But before I say anything else, B, I really ‘preciate everything you did since a nigga been away. Thanks for covering all funeral expenses for Mercedes too. A nigga respect shit like that.”
“Y’all my family. You ain’t gotta thank me. ‘Cause I know if it was me, you would have done the same thang for me,” Block said surely.
“No doubt.”
“So did you ever find out what happened with that whole situation? Who I gotta holla at, cuz?”
“Streets ain’t talking. But when I find out I’ma handle that one personally. But I am definitely gonna need you to handle this li’l bitch for me. My source told me she be around ya man’s, Santana.” D-Boy was a street nigga to the core. There was nothing or nobody that he hadn’t heard about on the East Coast. He kept his ears to the streets, in and out of the prison walls. He hated Santana. How funny it may seem. It wasn’t personal, because actually D-Boy had never seen the dude let alone knew him personally. It was from a business perspective. He was bred to never like the competition and he envied Santana. “Never liked that nigga anyway. This shit gives me more of the reason to dead both of the muthafuckas.”
“What’s crazy is I’m currently paying my OG to eliminate the competition right now,” Block laughed, “I’ma just add extra for the bitch.”
“Damn! I thought that was ya mans” D-Boy said.
“Some bullshit went down, fam, giving me the reason to annihilate that man…and now his bitch,” Block said. Just the thought of Santana cutting him off left a bitter taste in his mouth. No longer receiving his supply had Block’s drug business suffering significantly. A hustler’s worst nightmare was a decline in business and Block wasn’t having it.
“It’s on. I’ma be to see you in a couple days.”
“You already know and welcome home.” Block hung up the phone and refocused his attention on Murder Mitch. “Plans have been stretched, OG. I need you to get at his girl too for my peoples.”
“Never a problem,” he said nonchalantly as if murder was nothing. To him, murder was nothing.
Block smirked, pleased. “You know Ox, my Jamaican connect?” “Yeah,” he replied. “I used to put in major work for that nigga
too. Matter fact, he the one introduced me to your peoples.”
“Yeah. Well his freighter was seized by U.S Coast Guards. Ox had a shipment of about a half million bricks of that shit on its way over here to the States when it got hit, making it one of the biggest heroin busts of my run in this business. Quality heroin is so scarce it’s ridiculous. Niggas so muthafuckin’ thirsty they stretching that shit so much that the boy has lost nearly all of its purity. This shit out here is straight garbage. It’s hard to move. Santana is the only nigga eating on the East Coast, besides his plug and clients. It was cool for a minute, because he was selling me them thangs at a reasonable price. But now nigga talkin’ some scary shit and wanna cut me as being my supplier. Some bullshit about ‘cause the bitch ass feds, lurking. Tried to tell the nigga I got that situation under control. This my muthafuckin world,” Block paused to spark up a blunt and continued on. “That’s one disrespectful li’l nigga. I gotta show ‘im this shit deeper than just getting money out of the game. That’s why I personally want you to tell that nigga I send my regards.”
Murder Mitch agreed with a nod of the head.
“My fam just said something about this bitch he just start seeing. The nigga never have bitches with him so you’re gonna be able to get at her like nothing, ‘cause she gon’ be the only broad around him.”
“You know that ain’t never been a problem for me.” Block nodded pleasingly. He went inside his desk for an additional twenty grand. “That’s for the girl.” He gave him all the known information on Santana before walking him out to his car. “I’ll get with you in a week or so to let you know how it’s coming along.”
“That’s what it do.” Murder Mitch popped inside his car. As he pulled off, he honked the horn as his phone rang.
“Daddy, Tala been shot! Hurry up and get to the hospital!” Semaj screamed into the phone, causing him to drive at dangerous speeds as he attempted to gain all information necessary. Somebody was about to die.
Entering the waiting area, Murder Mitch spotted his daughter sitting on the floor. Her hands and clothes were still covered in Tala’s blood.
“Tell me what happened, Maj,” he said and rushed over to her. He hugged his daughter tightly. He could see that his baby girl was distraught, causing his heart to break into pieces. An emotionless man, nothing had ever made protective feelings come out of him except for when his family was in pain. He needed answers. Semaj didn’t respond and he understood why, quickly dismissing it as her being in shock. He sat beside his daughter on the floor to hold her as a sense of solace and security overcame her.
“Daddy, I thought she was dead,” she finally uttered. “He called me and said he was going to beat her. I didn’t know he was going to shoot her. Daddy, I hope she make it through this,” she cried in her father’s arms.
“Who, sweetheart? What are you talkin’ about?” he asked, rocking her back and forth.
“Her baby father, D-Boy. He knew about Tala lying about his money. He said he was only going to beat her up. I really never knew he was going to shoot her.” Snot and tears mixed on her face. “If I’d known I would’ve called for her some help.”
“Don’t worry about that, baby girl. But, I thought that nigga was still in jail.”
“I assume he got an early release for good behavior,” she sniffled.
“Well I’ma be lookin’ for that fuckin’ nigga and as quiet as kept you know the rest. Stop crying, Maj,” Murder Mitch wiped the tears from his daughter’s face. “Believe that. You know I’m going to handle this shit. Don’t you?”
“It wasn’t supposed to turn out like this, Daddy. Between me and you, I just told her to take the money for all the wrong he’d done to her. I felt this was her get back for all the things he took her through with the bitches and fuckery. For him having a main bitch and her not finding out until he went to jail…all that.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ma handle it” Murder Mitch gently stroked her hair for comfort. As the hours passed the two were
growing impatient. It seemed as if they had been there for days instead of hours, anticipating the outcome of the emergency surgery Tala was undergoing.
As daylight approached, the nurse came out to update them. “Ms. Richardson is a tough one. She’s been through intense surgery and has made it through the operation. She is still in ICU. The room number is 3728. Now, she is under heavy sedation and will probably sleep into the next day.”
“Can we see her please?” Semaj asked, whispering. “Sure. It will be good to sense loved ones around her.”
Murder Mitch stood up and assisted Semaj onto her feet. Grabbing her hand, they walked to the elevator and rode up to the third floor. Exiting, the pair walked down the long hallway and into the dimly lit room. The sight of Tala lying there battered and bandaged up with a gunshot wound to the head sent him over the top. He loathed seeing his sister like this. He hated himself more for not being there to protect her. A defeated feeling overcame him, and he could no longer stand it. To mask his watery eyes, he left the room without informing his daughter on his departure.
When he left, Semaj knew he was on a rampage and actually hoped that he murdered D-Boy before the next morning broke. She hated him with every fiber in her. Easing her way to Tala’s bedside, she focused on the needle marks on her arm. Teardrops instantly hit the bedding and guilt consumed her. Damn, I ain’t know she was shooting up. Was it this bad really? Semaj asked herself, shaking her head as she gently grabbed her auntie’s hand. “I’m sorry auntie. I should’ve never let it get this far. I know you can easily be influenced and let things get the best of you. I hate that we’ve been so distant lately. I’m sorry. I will never leave you again. You could’ve…” the tears were flowing like a heavy rainstorm. “I mean, I don’t know what I would’ve done. I love you Tee-Tee,” she said, calling her the nickname she hadn’t used since she was a little girl.
Suddenly Tala squeezed her hand weakly, causing Semaj to jump. Her heart warmed knowing that her auntie gave her a sign that she had heard her speaking to her. Never releasing her hand, Semaj pulled a chair close to her bedside and took a seat. Resting her head on the diminutive space on the bed, Semaj prayed slightly and thanked God for sparing her family. Conversing with her auntie on the good times, unintentionally Semaj drifted off to sleep all the while never releasing the hold of her auntie’s hand.
That morning Murder Mitch robbed three innocent individuals of their lives: D-Boy’s girlfriend of eight years and the two daughters they shared. D-Boy had violated and had disrespected him. Now it was payback and he deleted his most cherished loved ones. He had to pay the cost for shooting his sister in an obvious attempt to murder her.
His cold heart had no remorse for taking the lives of the blameless woman and her children, because it had to be done and it was all a part of the game. Call it tit for a tat; an eye for an eye or a life for a life, but this was the result of retaliation and Murder Mitch showed retribution at its highest intensity.
When D-Boy found them that afternoon his entire reason for living died right along with them. He was determined to find out who he had beef with that was sick enough to brutally murder a woman and her children. But deep down inside of him, D-Boy knew this was a message sent to him personally. He promised himself that he would get revenge on the people responsible, even if it cost him his very own life.
Chapter 8
“Okay, it’s a wrap. Great work,” Christopher shouted to the movie crew. This was the final day for shooting and Semaj couldn’t have been more elated. She was even more euphoric that the production company had cut her first check to the eighty thousand dollar movie deal. Her part had been delivered and it was a blessing for the thirty- five days of straight filming to be over. She woke up early, but four in the morning was pushing it, especially because of the fact that she only went to sleep two hours before that. Semaj was getting no sleeping literally.
“Hey, know you’re glad that this shit finally over,” Quasim said walking into her trailer.
“Yeah. But my heart is in this. I love it! So I can see myself doing it all over again,” Semaj said.
“I feel you. It’s definitely a grind though,” he said as he gently massaged her shoulders. “I have tickets for this Broadway play tonight. What you have planned?”
“Nothing really,” she replied.
“Well, you should come. I think it’s Phantom of the Opera. Al-B said I need to expand my mind and try some different shit,” he chuckled with a handsome grin on his face. “Usually I don’t get into shit like that, but that nigga insists I experience it. And besides, they say it’s calming and I need some peace in my life. You game?”
“I’ve always wanted to attend a Broadway play. I’d love to go,” Semaj said as she stood up and stood face to face with Quasim.
“Okay, I’ll arrange to have a car pick you up.” “Great.”
“How does six sound?” he asked, gazing in her eyes. “Perfect.”
It was as if Quasim loved everything about this girl and still so far their relationship hadn’t been sexual. That was cool with him though, because he wasn’t going to pressure her into anything. He was still completely turned on by Semaj. He ran his fingers through her hair and softly kissed the top of her head. “I’ma call you in an hour or so, when the car is on the way.” He kissed her once more, and disappeared out of her trailer as she smiled graciously at the man she had secretly fallen hard for.
Semaj drove down the BQE heading towards her house. Her mind drifted back to Quasim. It had been so long since she’d been actually attracted to a guy. It was freaking her out. Since Vega, a man hadn’t impressed her up until now. Semaj felt that there weren’t any real niggas left and figured Vega was the last of a dying breed—that was until she met Quasim. There was something unique about him. He wasn’t her man, but then again he wasn’t just her “friend” either. They shared a bond that was on a level of its own, and on the outside looking in a person would assume she was his woman. Honestly, it hadn’t bothered Semaj, because she could see herself being his lady. She just hoped that he looked at her the same way.
Semaj felt a vibration on her lap and it jarred her from daydreaming about what her life with Quasim would be like. She looked at the screen and noticed it was her father calling. She answered it. “What‘s up, Daddy?”
“Hey, baby girl. I see you done with filming.”
“Yeah I’m finished. But I’m anxious to see what people are gonna think of me and the movie as a whole.”
“I know you are. I’m very proud of you on some true G shit.
This shit big. You just seem so humble about it all.”
“I mean, it still seem like I’m dreaming, Daddy. Maybe I’ll feel it is reality once it’s released and talked about in the press. Feel me?”
“Yeah. But you always been like that. Wait to things explode before getting excited, just like your mother. You remind me so much of her.”
“I miss her, Daddy. I wish she was here to share this moment with me. She’d be so happy and proud.”
“She would,” Murder Mitch said. “But believe it baby, Kasey smiling down on you. Trust and believe she’s your guardian angel.”
Semaj changed the subject quickly, knowing it was always hard for her to discuss her mother. “So have you got any info on D-Boy?”
“Still nothing. It’s like dude fell off the face of the earth. But he’ll come out trust me. And when he do I’m going to send him back to hell where he belong.”
“Well, you know Tala is being moved out of ICU in two days. I’ma go see her when I get out of school.”
“It’s about time. They had my baby sis in intensive care for close to two months.”
“They had to do that so she could recover,” Semaj said. “She still gon’ be temporarily paralyzed for a minute. Her whole right side fucked up and the doctor said there is a chance she’ll be like that permanently.”
“But if she sticks to her physical therapy she might be able to come home sooner than we expect.
”
“Yeah, that’s why we gonna have to stay on her ass,” Semaj suggested, getting off at her exit.
“You already know. But I’ll be in touch in a couple days, baby girl. I’ma be out handling business and my phone gon’ be turned off so I don’t have no distractions. Gotta be completely focused on this job I’m handling.”
An eerie twinge shot through Semaj’s spine and she wanted to speak with her father about how they had been living a life of self- destruction, but she knew that Murder Mitch was a murderer first and there was nothing that she could say that would change the way he lived. So she simply said, “I love you and be careful, Daddy.”
“Love you more,” he said and hung up the phone.
Semaj pulled up to her crib and popped the trunk to grab the manila envelope with some important documents inside. She headed straight inside and walked into her room to prepare herself for her night out on the town. Semaj didn’t exactly know what to wear to a Broadway play so she went the casual route to be safe. She decided on a pair of black True Religion skinny jeans and a black, gray and purple plaid flannel shirt. The limited edition black suede Jimmy Choo ankle boots set the outfit off. They were a gift from Quasim before filming started. Pulling her hair up in a genie ponytail, complimented the pair of diamond studs and the Chanel lip gloss made her succulent lips glossy.
Quasim had Semaj picked up by a limo. Never having been in a limousine before, she felt special. When the driver pulled through the Theatre District, she noticed men in suits and slacks and the women in dresses and pencil skirts. She immediately knew she put on the wrong thing. She felt underdressed as the chauffeur coasted up to the theatre’s front entrance. She dropped her face in her hands in embarrassment, and no longer wanted to step out. “Only if I would have went the LBD way,” she seethed, scolding herself. “You can never go wrong in that!”
As the limo came to a stop, Semaj spotted Quasim standing at the entrance waiting for her, dapper from head to toe. He wore cream slacks and a plain snug-fitting brown Ralph Lauren sweater, and a pair of brown designer loafers. He didn’t wear any jewels and still looked like a million dollar nigga. His fresh Caesar haircut was trimmed to perfection and his facial hair seemed to be cut by an expert. Semaj couldn’t stunt, the man looked sophisticated like a motherfucker.