by Prenisha Aja
Star smiled like shattered glass and padded over to him, tiptoeing on the balls of her feet. Giving him a peck on the cheek, she whispered in his ear. “Thanks, baby.”
Although he tried to hide it, she saw the smile creeping up on his lips.
“You good. Now, get dressed,” he ordered. “We have a G.D. meeting. After we leave Kato, I’m takin’ you to show how a violator gets violated for disobedience by the Folks when they get out of line. Some real closed casket type shit.”
All Star could do was nod her head tacitly and pray that the violation wouldn’t end up being her.
Chapter Five
They arrived at Mercy Hospital located on Michigan Avenue in about half the time it should have taken to get there. Stepping out of the vehicle, Polo was strapped to the T. It didn’t matter where he was going, for him, no part of the city had a safe haven, not even a hospital. Just recently, at the same hospital, a gunman had showed up and opened fire, killing his former fiancée, a police officer, and an innocent bystander.
That day a Chicago breeze toyed at the hem of Star’s short dress, exposing her long, thick legs as she got out the whip and walked across the hospital parking lot. A gentle breeze blew, and the hem rose even further, riding her ass. Instantly, Star regretted wearing the short, tight-fitting dress and high heels, but she understood why Polo had bought it. The dress highlighted her ass and buxom figure.
The sound of her feet resonated with the pounding beat of her heart. She was terrified, and that was putting it mildly as trepidation continued to set in. In her mind, her conscience was telling her to turn around, run! Her grandmother had always warned ‘if you follow your first instincts people will think you a genius.’ Her first instinct was telling her not to go.
“The doctors have been telling us since he came out the coma it’s going to be a slow process for him to get his motor skills back. He’s going to be tired as shit—slow to move and get back to normal use of his body,” Polo explained to someone on the phone as they rode up the elevator. “But, I got this street shit under control until he gets back on the block. You need to chill, my nigga, ’bout that shit. I got this...”
Star’s mind churned with so many dilemmas there were too many to count. She was trapped when she knew damn well she shouldn’t be showing her face there. Once Kato saw them together and he told Polo what he knew, her life would be over.
Maybe I can just tell him myself, she thought, glancing over at Polo as he stood next to her, still talking on the phone.
She wasn’t just any basic chick on the streets now. She was his woman and the Gangstress Queen. They’d been in his home for two months straight, working together like the king and queen of the hood. That had to mean something, right? Maybe since he loved her, he could find a way to forgive her for this one mistake. After all, she was only trying to protect her family and save her life. It would be better for her to just tell him herself instead of waiting for Kato to do it, then she’d just let the cards fall where they may.
“...On God, I’ma kill everything that move if a nigga cross me or my family. So, you need to stop tryin’ to tell me how to run my business ’cause I take this shit right here serious. Now, like I said, I’m busy. I’ll hit you up later.”
Hearing Polo’s last outburst to whichever lieutenant he was talking to on the phone gave Star a quick change of heart, and she decided to keep quiet and take her chances.
“So… Can Kato talk and comprehend things?” Star asked once Polo ended his call, praying to herself that Kato would be a deaf and mute.
Looking her way, he nodded.
“Yeah, he can talk good, and I’m happy for it. I just wanted to get this shit over with. Don’t you?” Polo asked and glanced at her with a raised brow.
“Yeah,” she rushed to respond. “Me too.”
It felt like her breath was stuck in her throat.
As they approached what looked like a platoon of cops, a few of them openly stared at Star as she walked by. It seemed that the hospital had beefed up security on Kato’s floor.
A cop with a mohawk haircut and a husky linebacker build ogled her butt ostensibly along with two of his cop buddies. Star prayed that Polo hadn’t been paying attention to their lewd staring.
Unfortunately, he had.
“What da fuck? You niggas just gon’ disrespect me like I’m not with her?” Polo seethed, walking through the center of their group so that he was nearly nose-to-nose with the Mokawk-wearing officer. There was silence as the other officers looked on. One of the cops, sporting metallic blond hair, instantly went for his gun.
“Don’t!” Star yelled and pulled Polo’s arm. Too many Black men had been murdered lately in cold blood for far less. But Polo was a gangsta.
In an instant, the other cops began to walk up on him as she continued pulling on his arm, urging him to walk away.
“No, Polo! Let’s just go!” Her feminine voice was a falsetto of fear in the cramped space.
“How ’bout we take you downtown and deal with that mouth?” one aggressive cop interjected.
Polo whirled around, and the two men stood face to face. Just that fast, the moment became volatile, like human volcanoes about to erupt. The schisms between Black men in America and cops.
“Fuck goin’ downtown! This shit didn’t start downtown. You need to start doin’ y’all fuckin’ job and stop sweatin’ a nigga’s chick! Muthafuckas must don’t know who the fuck I’m am!” Polo fumed, they were standing too close together with tension building.
“And I don’t give a fuck neither, punk!” the blond cop yelled and placed his finger in Polo’s face.
Polo instantly knocked his hand down. The staccato of guns being cocked filled the space as several cops pulled their weapons and moved in.
Star burped a shallow scream that segued into minced words. “Please, nooooo!”
As she watched in horror, Polo’s right hand moved for his strap. This was nothing short of suicide.
In the distance, she saw a few of Polo’s Disciples standing at attention, their eyes ready and alert. Things would only get worse and turn into gunplay. The cops didn’t know that Polo never traveled as a party of one; he always brought along the most trusted members of his crew just in case.
Then, a deep baritone voice bellowed.
“Hold up, that’s Polo!” one of the cops spoke up. He was a large, rotund man with rosy cheeks and a huge, potbelly like he had a fetish for donuts. “He is the leader of the Disciples.”
It was the voice of reason. However, Polo didn’t say a word to affirm it. He wasn’t dumb enough to acknowledge any gang leadership. Lately, the Feds had been picking up gang remembers and charging them with racketeering and other bogus crimes due to all the deadly violence.
“Oh, I’ve heard of you,” the cop with the mohawk scoffed. “Move your ass on. Wasn’t nobody trying to look at your lady,” he added but took a step back. His tone had changed, but he was still trying to save face and play hard. However, it was evident that he, along with his buddies, got the picture.
The white cop who had confronted Polo stood his ground. In fact, he looked irate like he wanted to shoot Polo. As he took a step back, the expression on his face looked as if he had just come to his senses.
“Y’all muthafuckas better learn how to treat a nigga with respect,” Polo warned before backing away and turning around.
“And you better learn when to keep walkin’,” the cop said. He had some type of Irish accent that matched his belligerent attitude.
Polo snorted with disdain, taking several steps back and looking around to make sure he was straight.
Silent, Star held onto his arm and walked beside him, praying for peace for the rest of the day. Polo was like a tripped bomb set to explode at any moment. The slightest thing could cause him to blow.
“Now you see why niggas be bustin’ at they ass out the project windows from eighteen stories up,” Polo said loud enough for everyone around them, including the officers, to hear.
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Thankfully, no one said a word, and they continued walking around the maze leading to Kato’s room.
They turned the corner, entering the hall, and the first thing Star saw was throngs of people, mostly women, huddling around. Some were familiar faces—attractive young women—some of them around Star’s age or older.
As they walked up, Star heard Polo mutter to himself, looking at the numbers on the doors.
“This nigga is in room 318…”
They were only two doors down. Right near room 317, two women were involved in a heated argument that two nurses were struggling to defuse.
“Bitch, what you doin’ here? That nigga ain’t never fucked with you in his life. Now he half dead, and you bring yo’ knock-kneed, bread basket weave wearin’ ass out here—”
The chick that she was talking about had blue hair, badly in need of a touch-up. All ghetto hell was about to erupt when she raised her first to swing on the girl, stopping only when Polo walked into the middle of the fray.
“Listen, y’all bitches better get the fuck from around my nigga’s room with that fuck shit. And Kendre, you know better,” Polo warned, giving her a hard look.
Star’s eyes widened in understanding as she took them all in. The women around were females Kato used to mess with. He was simply the true testament of a male hoe. For whatever reason, young and old women were attracted to him. Like moths to a flame, they had an irresistible attraction to him, even after all his treacherous ways. Kato’s reputation was ruthless to say the least, but that seemed to only add to his appeal.
Take Kendre, for example. Kato had actually killed her brother, Baptist, who was the leader of the 47th Street Gangstas at the time. It was a hit orchestrated by Polo over turf and drugs. Baptist wasn’t Polo’s enemy, but he became a competition problem when the trap house he ran began to make too much money. Polo needed to take over his space and asked Kato to take him out the way. Kato wasted no time doing it in broad daylight the next morning, even though Kendre’s cousin had been there to witness it.
Somehow, Kato was able to convince Kendre that he didn’t do it, even after three eyewitnesses were ready to testify to the opposite. Once those three witnesses turned up missing, Kendre’s cousin suddenly caught amnesia and couldn’t remember what happened either, so Kendre believed Kato’s lie. At trial, Kendre stuck by his side because she loved him, even though she knew full well that he’d never love her back. He couldn’t love anybody; it wasn’t in his nature.
All the women spread like the Red Sea as Polo walked up and through the door with Star right behind him. As soon as it opened, she saw Kato and felt a shiver travel up her spine. He had lost a considerable amount of weight. His eyes were gaunt and sunken into his head. His once smooth, brown skin was now sickly pale, and he had deep, dark circles around his eyes. Even the crucifix tattoo on his face looked emaciated and ashy under the gauze bandage that partially covered his head.
There was a lot of commotion and a heated conversation was in progress as several people, including a nurse, hovered around his bed. Then Kato looked up and saw Polo walking in the room followed by Star.
“That’s the bitch right there! That’s the bitch—she the one who did this shit!”
Star damn near fainted the second she heard his voice. With her head down, she refused to look up into Kato’s eyes because she knew her life was over. She was a violator about to get the most vicious violation: Death by a firing squad full of goons.
Oh shit, her mind droned before she lifted her head and looked at Polo.
His stern expression was nothing short of rage as a deep scowl covered his face.
It was all over. The day had finally come when Polo would find out her darkest, deepest secret.
Star had murdered his brother.
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NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
Hey my loves! Like Omg, we have another one. I still can’t believe you all rock with me the way that you do. I swear, if I have never told you before, THANK YOU!! I appreciate every last one of you and I truly wish that I could tell you all individually. I hope that each and every last one of you enjoyed this read just as much as I did writing it. Please leave a review and let me know exactly what you thought. I love you all and I promise there is more to come.
xoxo- Prenisha Aja’
About the Author
Prenisha Aja' whom was born and raised in Conroe, Tx.
She's a 28 year old author who fell in love with the art of it all by picking up her first urban book decades ago. From writing down stories about her life in a journal to participating in the short story challenge that took Facebook by a storm, it all lead her to one thing. Being a Author!
With her foot in the door and not knowing much about the industry, she wrote and Self-Published her Debut Novel A Bitter Love which opened many doors for her.
Prenisha hopes to that her writing will keep you interested and wanting more which each book that she drops.
To keep up with all things Author Prenisha Aja’, such as upcoming releases, sneak peeks, giveaways, and much more, join my readers group: bookwithHER
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