A Hustler's Son II (13 page)
He had wakened me outta my zone. “Oh…uh…naw. I’m straight,” I responded.
“What ‘bout you, Crane?” Spikes mouthed to him in the rearview mirror. .
Crane wrote on the pad he carried around wit’ him and handed it to Spikes. Spikes read it aloud and gave it back to him. Every now and again I could feel Crane’s stares. This dude gave me the creeps. If he had somethin’ to say I wished he’d write that shit down and get it ova wit’. Cuz for real, I was thinkin’ ‘bout makin’ him next on my list.
“That nigga Aven don’t neva eat,” Prangsta said in the passenger seat. “I guess he tryin’ to keep his girly figure together.”
They laughed.
Ever since I busted that nigga in the mouth back at the club that night, he never got over it. He would say shit to insight me but I ignored him. I saw the bigger picture, and eventually he wouldn’t be in it.
“I don’t eat that shit…that’s all.” I was short wit’ ’em all the time. Keepin’ my words to a minimum for many reasons.
Number one, they wanted to know
where I was from…how did I find out ‘bout Kyope
…
how big my dick was
and everythin’ else that ain’t have shit to do wit’ they asses. I was tired of bein’ drilled. I eventually told them I was from Atlanta and the rest of my business was mine. I felt comfortable since O was from there and gave me a few specifics in case I felt inclined to give them. As long as Kyope was cool wit’ my presence, they could kiss my ass.
“You dumb funny,” Prangsta laughed after placin’ the orders. “Food is food, nigga. You betta stop believin’ that shit them white people be tellin’ you. We all gonna die of somethin’ anyway.”
“Yep. Some niggas gonna die from bullets,” I told him.
The entire car got quiet as shit. And all three of them turned around to look at me.
“A lot of niggas gonna die from bullets,” Prangsta said. Everybody looked away from me. “But I’ma die from eatin’ what the fuck I wanna eat.”
“Then eat, nigga,” I told him.
When they got they food, Prangsta grabbed a fist full of fries and stuffed his face. All while parked in the drive thru.
“I notice you don’t talk much, Aven,” Spikes said out the blue. “You makin’ me think somethin’ else up wit’ you.” His New York accent was so thick I knew he neva got out the city.
What are these niggas? A tag team?
If Spikes wasn’t askin’ me somethin’ Prangsta was.
“As long as Kyope’s cool wit’ me, I’m good. Plus where I’m from real niggas do real things. I neva heard the sayin’ real niggas
say
real things.”
“So what you sayin’?” Prangsta asked lookin’ at me through the his sun visor mirror before he sucked back whateva he was drinkin’ in his cup. “We ain’t real niggas?”
Before I could answer, Prangsta angrily yelled for the cashier. “Hey! Get ya ass back out here!” Prangsta demanded.
He waited for the cashier to come back. It was apparent our conversation was no longer important.
“Yes,” she said smackin’ her tongue irritated by the way he called her. “What you want?”
“I need you to get me what the fuck I asked fo!” Prangsta demanded.
She smacked her teeth before sayin’, “What’s wrong wit’ it?”
I was hopin’ she would take the base out her voice cuz I could sense unnecessary drama ’bout to jump off. And the last thing I wanted was to get locked up in New York wit’ these fools, and have my cover blown.
“For starters you, bucket-head-bitch. I asked for a strawberry shake and you bring me a vanilla one,” he said handin’ her the empty cup. There wasn’t a drop of shake left inside.
What the fuck was this nigga talkin’ ‘bout?
“What I’ma do wit’ this? You drank the whole thing,” she continued shakin’ the cup and rollin’ her eyes and neck. “I can’t do nothin’ wit’ this!”
“Bitch, take ya ass back in there and give me what I paid for before I reach through this mothafucka and snatch your throat out!”
She smacked her lips again and said, “You ain’t my fava?”
This bitch was trippin’!
And what does this nigga do? He get out of the car snatches the chrome 9 from his coat, grabs the back of her head and sticks the barrel in her face.
“Open ya mouth,” he said slowly.
She complies.
He slides the gun in her mouth; pass her lips and then her teeth.
“Now…take ya dumb ass to the back and get my mothafuckin’ shake. You hear me, bitch?”
She nodded yes and he removed the .9 from her mouth.
“Look at this nigga,” Spikes laughed talkin’ to no one in particular. He thought that shit was funny but I wanted to light this mothafucka up. We spose to be handlin’ business and was ‘bout to get arrested on some fluke shit. “What you doin’, B?”
All I know is if I got locked up and somethin’ prevents me from murderin’ Kyope and Jarvis, I’m addin’ a few more niggas to my list. Suddenly my plan ain’t seem so smart. I should’ve smoked these niggas the moment I got off the bus from Maryland and be done wit it.
Just when things turned into shit, it turned into diarrhea when the people behind us started layin’ on they horns.
“What the fuck are ya’ll doin’?” yelled the man behind us.
Crane must have felt the vibration of the car horns cuz his deaf ass turned around, and looked out the window.
To me, it felt like niggas in New York was real serious ‘bout they McDonalds. I mean, didn’t the people behind us see the bitch in the drive thru cryin’? And beggin’ this fool to stop and take the gun out of her face? What was the rush for? This the kinda shit that be in the news and have reporters callin’ it anotha senseless crime.
Still in the driveway, Crane opened his door, got out and walked up to the car behind us. Then he smashed the back window and stuck his gun at the girls head in the back seat while starin’ the driver down. He couldn’t speak but his actions spoke volumes.
“You got it, man!” the driver said. “Everything cool. We ain’t in a rush.”
“Please don’t shoot,” she cried as the chrome touched her temple.
They both calmed down and kept they hands raised in the air.
When enough fear was provoked, Crane resumed his position in the back seat wit’ me. These New York cats be wildin’. I gotta shorten up they circle quick cuz I can see they dangerous together.
“My, nigga!” Spikes said givin’ Crane dap.
When we finally pulled off, Prangsta and Spikes went on and on ‘bout how they terrorized innocent people. I knew they were all high so I tried to let shit slide. But this was borderline ridiculous.
“Oh my, gawd!!! Crane straight punked that nigga
wit
his bitch in the car,” Prangsta laughed passin’ a blunt he sparked to Spikes.
He accepted the handoff and said, “Right! You shoulda blew his tires out!” he continued lookin’ at Crane through the rearview mirror. He took a pull off the weed.
Crane smiled havin’ read his lips and accepted the blunt when it was given to him.
The car was filled wit’ smoke. Normally I ain’t smoke wit’ them but after the bullshit in the drive thru , when that shit came my way, I pulled so hard on it, I thought my lungs would collapse.
The moment I released the smoke into the air, I noticed our surrounding’s looked familiar. Too familiar. Now I know I ain’t been in New York that long, but I knew I’d been here before. When I looked around, I was certain.
I
was
here.
For two months at that.
When we pulled up into the hotel I stayed at in Brooklyn, a flood of fear overcame me. Did they know ‘bout me and was bringin’ me here to put me to rest? Am I ‘bout to die wit’out seein’ revenge for my Mom’s death? I placed my hand on my piece and eyed all of ‘em. Spikes and Prangsta seemed to be in a world of they own, and as always, Crane’s eyes was glued on me.
He
did
know.
They
all
knew.
Crane placed his hand on my forearm and mouthed, “You ready?”
Although the words couldn’t exit his mouth, suddenly I knew I was overreactin’. The type of niggas they was, they’da murdered me a long time ago. Wit’ no time wasted.
In the front seat Prangsta and Spikes was busy loadin’ they guns and Crane began to load his too.
“You ready lil, nigga?” Prangsta asked me.
“Uh…yeah.”
“Well you don’t sound like it. You wanted to be put on, now you up.”
“I said I’m ready. It ain’t like I ain’t put in work before,” I reminded them. “What we doin’ here anyway?”
“It’s personal,” Spikes laughed lookin’ at Prangsta.
“You might as well tell the, lil nigga,” Prangsta chuckled. “He need to know what he gettin’ into. Since
he
might have to put in the work.”
These were the most laugh-n-est niggas I ever met in my life. Did everything have to be funny?
“I’ll say this…Kyope don’t like nothin’ or nobody fuckin’ wit’ his business. And his main man got a problem sometimes seperatin’ business from pleasure when it come to the ladies. Last time he pulled this mess, a lotta shit got outta hand,” Spikes said.
“You talkin’ ‘bout when he was trippin’ off that bitch Helena?” Prangsta questioned, as he used a cloth to wipe his prints off the gun. Helena was my mother’s real name. “That bitch was just as crazy as he was. That’s why they was together so long. They said she could suck the fuck out a dick though.”
Goosebumps appeared on my body. I whipped out my gun and pointed it at the back of Prangsta’s head. I ain’t even think about it, but I was sure I’d have to pay for. Still, they’d disrespected my moms. My reason for being here.
The car was silent. Their stares were on me.
“This nigga’s trippin’,” Spikes said.
“Bout time this nigga loosened up,” Prangsta laughed pushin’ the barrel of my gun away from him. “Come on, lil nigga!”
“Fuck that,” Spikes added. “If this nigga act like this every time he smoke, he ain’t gettin’ no mo.”
I couldn’t believe I got away wit’ that shit.
I tucked my weapon back under my shirt and exited the car. I was losin’ control. I had to calm down. I might not get a break next time. I figured my mother was smilin’ down on me, and as always, came to my rescue. I let out a deep breath.
Wit’ all the drama, I did find out that Jarvis was the reason for our trip. And whoever he was dealin’ wit’ was interferin’ wit’ business and possibly stayin’ at this hotel. Whoever she was, she was ‘bout to pay for bein’ wit’ the wrong mothafucka at the wrong time.
Thursday, 2:59 Pm
****
I know now, I’m not gonna make it outta the situation alive.
-Kenosha
I couldn’t wait to get outta this hotel.
It held memories. Bad ones. And, I was hardly ever here anyway.
Most importantly, I made up my mind that I was gonna kill Skully.
I know this was nothin’ like my original plan, but it was one I was gonna keep. He was in my way and would stop at nothin’ to hurt me if he had to. And I liked everything about Jarvis. He was handsome. Rich, and obsessed with me. Skully may have had money, but he was mean, ugly and could care less about my well being. It was obvious that his plans for the future did not include me. So it wasn’t hard for me to make my decision.
He had to die.
I couldn’t believe Skully actually allowed Jax to rape me the way that he did. I screamed and cried the entire ten minutes and it did nothing but excite Jax even more. I’m sure Skully heard my pleas. So the next time I saw Skully, it was settled. I was blowing his mothafuckin’ head off!
Pushing the curtains aside, I looked out the window of the hotel once more to be sure Skully wasn’t watching me. I didn’t see any cars out of the ordinary so I proceeded with getting my clothes together to run off with Jarvis.
I was almost packed when I heard a knock at the door. I was startled. And had to tighten up my ass cheeks just to prevent from shitting on myself. Hoping it was my cab driver, I looked out the peephole and the door was suddenly kicked open.
Two men rushed me.
One was tall and the other was light skin. A third appeared and than a fourth. And it was the fourth person who caused my breath to momentarily escape my body. It was Kelsi. Seeing him emerge from the doorway hurt. Our eyes locked and I could tell he was just as shocked to see me as I was to see him.
I felt him.
And we spoke without words.
He felt betrayed and me confused.
While I was looking at Kelsi, the tall brown skin man with a uniform walked up to me and covered my mouth. He was applying so much pressure on my nose and lips that I started to feel faint. When I managed to bite his index finger, he smacked me so hard my tooth fell out and hit the floor. He rubbed his hand that was dripping with blood and was about to hit me again until the tall light skin man with the dreds grabbed his wrist.
“Easy,” the one with the dreds told him, tapping him lightly on the back. “I got it from here.”
The uniformed man didn’t speak. Just nodded.
“You probably wondering what’s up?” the dreaded man, started. “Or maybe you use to this kinda thing happenin’ to you. You know, wit’ you bein’ a gold digger and all.”
