The Streets Bleed Murder Box Set

by Jerry Jackson

  “That’s what I’m saying, bruh. I’m ‘bout to meet up with Bam in a minute. I just want to formulate a plan so you can handle your business, and then we stick to the deal you presented,” Monkey said.

  “Y’all finna meet up?” skeptically Gangsta asked.

  “Listen, bruh. Bam just murked ya boy Jay. Took his whole head off ‘cause he got wind that you came over with that offer. Before this shit happened, though, he just dropped a hundred off. He made promises to double your offer once we found and killed you. The nigga fucked my partna Step right up, and he instantly started looking for you harder than the police was, bruh. And I wasn’t with that. Plus Bam killing Jay wasn’t cool. But Step showed he didn’t give a fuck. That’s why I took him out, and I’m keeping the hundred pounds, too.”

  “You took who out?” asked Gangsta.

  “Step. I had to slump the nigga ‘cause he want to follow Bam, and Bam a rat, bruh, plain and simple. I’d rather take my chances with you,” Monkey said, but Gangsta didn’t believe him for one second. He felt something was funny about it.

  “How I know you not flexing me, though?”

  “That’s why I wanted to link up, so you can see, bruh. I will meet you anywhere, my nigga, standing in a pair of boxer shorts if I must. I’m just trying to move fast, ‘cause I don’t want Bam to get suspicious when me and Step ‘posed to be out looking for you.”

  “Is that right?”

  “On my kids.”

  “Ok, in two hours go back to that girl’s house and wait on me there. I’m ready to die anyway, so if I see any sign of Bam or anything out of place, I’m killing you first, real talk,” Gangsta stated and meant every word he said.

  “Bet that,” Monkey replied, then Gangsta hung up and called Nikki back to put her on point.

  ***

  Ne-Ne

  She was watching BET on the TV mounted to the wall when her room door cracked open slowly. She thought it had to be the nurse or doctor because visitation didn’t begin for a couple more hours. It seemed a blur walked into her room. Ne-Ne instantly went into shock when she locked eyes with Gangsta. He closed the door as Ne-Ne sat up in her bed.

  “Gary, what are you— Don’t you know if somebody see you in here— What are you doing here?” Ne-Ne was confused.

  “Nya, can you walk?” Gangsta ignored her questions, walking over to her bed. She was as beautiful as ever.

  “Yes, why?”

  “Come in the bathroom,” Gangsta said and went into the tiny room.

  Ne-Ne shook her head side-to-side. Gary was the last person she wanted to see at the moment, and it showed in her attitude. She swung her legs down to the floor, sliding her feet into her slippers. Using the railing of the bed, she got up and followed him into the bathroom. Gangsta looked drained when she walked in, and the stitches in his forehead made it look worse. She noticed his jeans were dirty and he reeked of a smell unlike himself. Ne-Ne pulled the door shut and leaned against the wall.

  “What’s up, Gary? What is it?” She was agitated.

  “I need you, Nya. I’m sorry I failed y’all, and I’m doing everything in my power to make this right—”

  “Make what right?” she cut him off, arms folded across her chest. “Your son is dying, Gary. Make what right?”

  “Nya, I know! Damn you, acting like I’m the nigga who shot him or something like I was just out there in the streets starting shit. This fuck-shit came out of nowhere. I wasn’t fucking with them niggas. I don’t even know them suckas. Nya, I’m tore up inside, shawty. I’m weak as fuck, but I can’t crumble ‘cause I got a score to settle. I need you, though. I need you to believe in me and support—”

  “I am supporting you. I can’t wait for you to get the nigga behind this, but that still don’t change the fact that our son is dying. And to be honest, it looks like we will have to bury him.” Tears began to fall out of her eyes at the mention of their defeat. Gangsta’s eyes began to water, also.

  “Don’t say that, Nya. Have you been praying?” He reached out to touch her, but she unfolded her arms and knocked his hand down.

  “Yes, I pray! I’m just saying these doctors got me thinking that—”

  “Nya!” Gangsta crowded her space, tears now falling fast down his face as well as hers. He took her shoulders in both hands, bending down to eyelevel with her.

  “Fuck what they saying. Anyways, I thought he was being sent to Grady for the surgery,” Gangsta said.

  “Surgery is in two days, and he left last night. I will be going home tomorrow, so I’m going straight there when I’m released.”

  “Ok, cool. Well, here. Call me from this number and keep me updated.” He pulled out a phone, gave it to her, then kissed her forehead.

  “Mrs. Robertson?”

  At the sound of her name, they both jumped. Ne-Ne placed her finger to her lips, telling him to be quite as she walked out, closing the bathroom door back and glad to see it was the young nurse she was cool with.

  “Yes?”

  “Doctor Greene said you can leave today if you choose to because you’re ready. I told her yes ‘cause I figured you wanted to see your son and all, so she’s getting your discharge papers right now,” the young, pretty nurse said. She and Ne-Ne became cool over the few days spent together.

  “Ok, that’s fine. Listen, have you seen any one of them detectives walking around or anything?” Ne-Ne asked.

  “No, I haven’t. But if I do, do you want me to send them up?” the nurse replied with her own question.

  “No, I just wanted to know, that’s all. Thank you, though, for everything.” Ne-Ne and the nurse hugged, then she left the room. Ne-Ne quickly walked back into the bathroom to find Gangsta sitting on the edge of the toilet.

  “I’m about to leave. You gotta go,” she spoke, standing in the door of the bathroom. Gangsta stood and walked up on her.

  “Ne-Ne, do you believe in me?” He towered over her small frame.

  Ne-Ne looked up in his eyes. She witnessed so much pain. She saw defeat in him more than she had ever seen. His eyes were cold and black, his soul was burning, and this she knew. Ne-Ne looked away and thought about her reply. She looked back up into his eyes and spoke.

  “To be honest, I don’t, but I truly hope you surprise me.”

  Gangsta just stared at her for a minute, then he nodded his head up and down before stepping around her, leaving the room. Ne-Ne knew her statement would crush him, but it was exactly how she felt: crushed, hurtful, and hateful. She shed one more tear, but this one was for the end of them. Her heart told her it was truly over. His facial expression just showed her more coldness about their situation, and even toward her. It was a look she had never seen on Gangsta, one that made her wish she would’ve lied and hidden her feelings instead of bringing it to him for real. There was no denying the fact that she did love Gary, and she did believe in him. Though she was also scared and felt unsafe, she was rooting for him to succeed and not fail.

  To her, Gangsta was one of the realist guys she knew. He had grace about himself, and at all times he was calm and humble, but there was no over-painting — he was most definitely from the hood. Overall, Gangsta was solid. He always kept it real and was one of those guys who always was willing to help people in any form or fashion. It was a trait she liked about him, and everyone around him felt the same.

  Chapter 10

  Bam

  Trina was cuddled up under him, asleep. Bam reached for his phone to see if he had any missed calls. His messages showed a picture text from his babymama and a few text messages from miscellaneous people, but none from Monkey or step saying they received the package. He climbed out of the bed, looking back at his rider. He deciding to leave her asleep. He got dressed and rolled a blunt in the living room. He called his bodyguard, who was already downstairs waiting on him when he got to the lobby. He was met by his main bodyguard.

  “Boss, what’s up? You good?” the bodyguard asked, leading the way out of the lobby. Bam only nodded his reply as he
followed. He pulled his phone out and opened the picture message from his babymama. He knew it was a picture of his kids, like she always sent, or one of them long-ass messages telling him how much she loved him and missed him. Goldie always knew the correct words to say to him, and at the correct moments. He climbed into the back of the awaiting Benz as the message downloaded.

  “Where to, boss?” The driver looked at him through the mirror.

  Bam looked up and said, “Take me to Monkey and Step’s spot. These niggas acting like they can’t contact me on my business, yo. I’m just not with that.”

  The picture message failed to download. Bam realized he didn’t have a strong signal, so he called Goldie instead, only to get her voicemail. He tired once more only to get the same thing, so he dialed her mother’s house and the phone just rang, so he hung up.

  When Bam made it to the trap house of Monkey and Step, only a few shooters stood on the porch. Bam was introduced to a dude named Mack, who ran the spot. Inside the trap house, people sat around with long faces and saddened mugs.

  “Son, where is Monkey and Step,” Bam asked once inside the house. Mack cleared his throat.

  “Police just found this nigga, Step, dead over there off Bankhead, him and another nigga slumped in somebody’s driveway,” Mack said.

  “Another dude?” Bam faced Mack. “Where is Monkey?”

  “Yeah, another dude. Matter fact, Monkey and Pam just left about an hour ago. He took all the product with them only leaving me ten pounds to get off. Fucked up thing is after Monkey left, Step’s uncle and mom pulled up hysterical, looking for Monkey. She said that she just left the morgue, that the police found Step dead. Shot in the face,” Mack explained while he followed Bam as he continued to walk throughout the trap house, processing all he was hearing. Now it all made sense why he wasn’t receiving calls from Step or Monkey.

  “Yo, son, text the nigga Monkey and tell him that you done with them ten, that you need some more.” Bam gave orders like the boss he was. His two bodyguards stood inside the house as well, waiting on the word from Bam to clear the house out. Mack did as told.

  Bam took his own phone out and again downloaded the message from Goldie that failed earlier. When the message opened up and Bam saw the picture, his heart stopped. He raised the phone to his face, opened his eyes wider to get a better look, making sure he saw what he thought he saw and who it was. Bam’s hands instantly started trembling as he stared at his babymama with a bullet hole in her cheekbone, eyes wide open, blank with no life in them. He didn’t understand at first. He didn’t even wanna believe this happened. It had to be a joke. But this was the wrong time to be joking, and Goldie knew this, but Goldie didn’t play games. She was too woman for that. Bam looked at the picture again and dialed her number, and again he got the voicemail. Bam then quickly strolled down the contact list and made a call to one of his people to pull up around on South Miami Avenue, but Bam got the news he didn’t want to hear. It was all over the news that five people were killed, which included his babymama, but his kids were safe in police custody. That was the best news of all, that his kids didn’t get hurt.

  “What the fuck,” Bam said to his own self while hanging up the phone. His stomach was in knots as Gangsta crossed his mind.

  Mack’s phone had started to ring. Bam walked over and said, “Put it on speaker.”

  “What’s up, bruh?” Mack answered and put it on speakerphone, as requested.

  “What’s up? You text and said that network gone already?”

  It was Monkey. Bam nodded his head, then indicated a money signal with his hand.

  “Yeah, I got all the paper,” Mack said into the phone, catching on to what Bam was saying.

  “Damn, shit booming today, huh? I’ma drop you off ten more in a few hours. I got some shit I need you to do,” Monkey shot back.

  Bam, on the other hand, shook his head at Mack, then walked over and whispered in his ear.

  “Tell ‘im you need the shit now. You got niggas’ money already. Tell him you will meet him somewhere.”

  “Bruh, I got extra paper on top of what I owe you. Niggas gave me money up front. I need dis shit, like, yesterday. I can meet you, though, if that’s the case,” Mack did as told.

  Monkey was silent for a moment before he replied. “Ok, Pam will bring it to you in the next thirty minutes. Just be on point and give her the bread. I got to go, bruh. I will check in later.”

  “Bet that,” Mack confirmed once Bam agreed with a shake of his head. They hung up the phone, then Bam walked up on Mack.

  “Yo, son, who is this Pam chick?”

  ***

  Monkey

  “Baby girl, I need you to take Mack ten mo’ pounds. Get that money, too, from him while I go handle this business with Gangsta,” Monkey told Pam as they sat in the hotel room with ninety pounds.

  “So you don’t need me shotgun with you meeting the dude?” she asked, picking up her strap from the table.

  “Naw, I’m just ‘bout to do this quick as possible so I can call Bam. I know the nigga worried, and I don’t want him to start thinking something is up. I want it to be a surprise when Gangsta pop up and murk his ass.” Monkey could wait for it. Step’s mother was already blowing his phone up. He refused to answer. He hated the fact she found out so fast, but at the same time, he knew with him killing Step in someone’s driveway in the open, someone would report it sooner rather than later.

  “Ok, and we meet back here, right?” Pam questioned.

  “Yeah,” replied Monkey.

  Pam agreed to meet with Mack while he handled his business. Monkey hit the streets after he got strapped up, ready to get this shit over with. He headed back to Nikki’s house with hopes that Gangsta would now believe he wasn’t with Bam. Even though he didn’t know Gangsta, Monkey felt something real about him. Monkey hardly trusted people, but he’d rather take his chances with Gangsta than fuckin’ with a snitch.

  Leaving the hotel, Monkey smoothly walked to the rental SUV, wishing it had tints on all the windows instead of just the back. He knew he had to be extra careful with his movement going over to Gangsta and hoped like hell that everything worked like a clock, because if not, then everything would be exposed and it would be a for sure war. Monkey was a hustler, not a killer. But if need be, he wouldn’t hesitate to take one out. Though it wasn’t his thing, he liked to grind. All Monkey wanted was the money and a way out of the game, because at the end of the road there was only jail and death, and he was ready for neither.

  He made it to the west side of Atlanta and instantly became nervous as he exited the highway, turning onto Bankhead. He made two right turns, passing the Blue Flame and Tower Liquor Store. As soon as he passed, he heard his phone ring. It was a private number, meaning it was Gangsta.

  “Hello,” Monkey answered.

  “Turn around and pull into the Tower Liquor Store,” Gangsta’s voice said. Monkey’s eyes started scanning everywhere as he drove, looking for a place to turn around. He felt like Gangsta was right behind him in the backseat, hovering over him. Where is this nigga, Monkey?

  All of a sudden his nervousness turned into fear. He rode back up the street at a snail’s pace, watching both sides of the street. Something wasn’t right, his gut was telling him. And at that thought, Monkey decided to hightail it out of there. But it was as if Gangsta heard his thoughts.

  “Pull into the club to your right,” Gangsta spoke, and without thought Monkey whipped into the club parking lot. His heart now in his stomach, experiencing the worst needle-and-pins in each of his fingers as he crept through, the tires crunching the gravel as he inched forward. Monkey stopped breathing when he heard Gangsta.

  “Get out. Get in the car to your left,” Gangsta said, and that’s when Monkey turned to see him sitting in the backseat of a car. Gangsta held a gun aimed at Monkey’s face with the beam on bright. Careful not to panic, Monkey complied and parked the SUV. He got out with his own gun on him, but concealed. Monkey walked over to the oth
er door, but Gangsta pointed to the driver’s seat. Monkey got the idea and climbed into the car, closing the door, both hands partially in the air.

  “I’m not against you, my nigga, real talk. You can put down the gun.” Monkey wanted to calm him down before he even got started.

  “Pull off, my nigga,” was the only thing Gangsta said, then pressed the cold steal to the back of Monkey’s head, who in return cranked up and mashed the gas. He turned the car around. Monkey pulled out, going to the left.

  “Did anybody follow you?” Gangsta lowered the gun.

  “Naw, my nigga, everything good, bruh,” replied Monkey, then added, “I’m tryna lay this nigga Bam at your feet. I’m not the enemy, bruh. I know you can’t trust niggas, but I’m not the one that wants you hurt, bruh.”

  “Pull up in the first parking lot to your right,” Gangsta demanded when they rode down to Dogwood Apartments, and Monkey followed instructions. He pulled into the parking lot.

  “You got a gun on your person?” was Gangsta’s next question, because he could not afford to slip right now.

  “Yeah, I’m strapped.” Monkey was being honest.

  “If you expect me to trust you, then I got to have that gun. It ain’t nothing personal, pimp. I’m just not giving nobody the up. I don’t care who you are,” Gangsta said as Monkey parked the car. He didn’t even respond as he grabbed the gun from his waist and handed it over to Gangsta. He was ready to get Bam out of the way. He was the biggest threat of them all. Gangsta got out of the car and Monkey did the same.

  “Let’s ride.” Gangsta climbed into an all-black Cutlass 442 with heavy tints. Monkey jumped into the driver’s seat. Gangsta passed him the keys.

  Chapter 11

  Bam

  Bam had to stay focused, even though his babymama being dead was heavy on his mind. He wanted revenge so bad on anybody he could get his hands on. He wanted to know who was truly behind the murders, because he would make them pay dearly. He couldn’t figure out if Gangsta was the one who did this, how did he get the location on Goldie? He underestimated Gangsta and his help. He wouldn’t do it a second time, he promised.