Justify My Thug (28 page)

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Authors: Wahida Clark

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BOOK: Justify My Thug
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I took it from him, got my stuff and got out. I was sick of riding. That uncomfortable plane ride. The long cab drive. I was hungry and was ready to relax. I waited until the cabbie pulled off and was out of sight before I trudged up the walkway, getting more excited with each step I took. I reached the front door and sat my bags down. I rang the doorbell. I rang it again and again and again. No one answered.

FAHEEM

We had just pulled up to an abandoned club not too far from Chandler Road. I immediately went into war mode. I looked over at my cousins G and Snell and said, “Our main objective is my son's safety. I don't want no cowboy shit when we get in there.”

“C'mon, nigga. You know we got you Fah. That's why you got us down here,” my cousin G said. “Once little man is safe if them niggas flinch we killing everything moving.”

I checked my gun, popped the locks and we rolled out. Oni's punk ass brother was in the Lexus behind us. The
only
reason I let dude roll with us was because they wouldn't meet with us unless at least one of them muthafuckas who stole from them was present. I gave him the signal, he deaded his engine, got out
and met me at the trunk of my ride. I took the dope out, checked it over, zipped it up in the duffels and slammed the trunk shut. I had one bag and gave Snell the other one. We headed to the back door, looking around the deserted street for witnesses in case shit got ugly.

There was two niggas standing guard. They gritted at us, let us in and followed us. The slim nigga led the way while the other, who looked like a linebacker, took up the rear. My adrenaline was charged up. I wanted to just start busting niggas right then and there. But I knew I had to be cool until I got my little man out of harm's way.

When we got to the back this fag ass nigga Steele was sitting in a high-back leather chair like he was a fucking don or some shit. The image of him toking a cigar vexed me as much as the smoke that clouded the room. I wanted to hawk and spit on this skinny, dread-headed muthafucka.

“Aiight, we here. I got your shit, now where is my son?”

“Who the fuck is you?” Steele spit, mean mugging me as if I gave a fuck.

“Usually I'm a niggas worst fucking nightmare but today I come in peace. I just want what belongs to me and in exchange I'm giving you what belongs to you,” I said as I patted the duffle bag I was holding and nodded to the one Snell had.

“Let me see what y'all working with.”

“Let me see my son.” Fuck the bullshit.

The nigga took a minute to size up the situation, then he nodded at his boy. There was a door behind him and when he opened it a chick came out with my son, who was blindfolded and had his hands taped together. It took everything within my power to not lose control.

“Aiight, you see him, now let me see my shit.”

My nostrils flared up. I took a deep breath then unzipped the bag so that he could see the dope. Snell did the same thing.

“Pass it over here.”

“Nah, nigga same time.” Who the fuck this nigga think I am? I ain't new to this shit. And just as we were getting ready to make the exchange I hear Wali's punk ass yell out.

“Y'all niggas foul as hell. Who the fuck steals little kids?”

Steele rose to his feet yelling, “Muthafucka you and that bitch violated my shit. I was happy never meeting you muthafuckas. You know how much money y'all cost me? Sheeit you lucky I let all of y'all live, nigga.”

“Fuck you nigga!” Wali spat back. Now the whole room was beyond tensed up. My cousin G grabbed Wali in an attempt to try and calm him down.

But when I heard my son crying, “Daddy! Daddy!” I lost it.

“Hold the fuck up. Wali shut the fuck up!” I yelled at the top of my voice. I must have made the muthafuckin' walls shake because niggas got real calm, real quick.

“Now look, I ain't got no beef with you man. I ain't got shit to do with what they took from you. If you want to kill they ass when it's over you got my blessing. Shit I'll probably help you. But the only thing I'm concerned with is my son. If it wasn't for him I wouldn't give a fuck what happened to them muthafuckas.”

Steele stood there taking in what I was saying.

“Yeah, aiight. Pass me the bag. And y'all release his son.”

They took the blindfold off and pushed him towards me. I then went to pass the bag across the table. Once I got Lil' Faheem in my arms, Wali passed the bag of money. But when he reached in his pocket all hell broke loose. All I heard was,
“The nigga pulling a gun!” That's when bullets started flying. I felt one hit me in my shoulder and I flew back but not before grabbing my gat and letting off a few shots. Once I hit the ground I covered my little man with my body and I could see niggas falling all around us.

When the smoke cleared I was hit and I rolled off of Faheem over onto my back. The pain in my shoulder wouldn't let me move. I stared up at the ceiling for a minute. “You alright, lil' man?” I felt for his hand as I looked around again to see who was standing and who wasn't. Wali's ass was down which was cool with me because I was putting that nigga in a box myself for opening his mouth.

“Fah, you aiight nigga?” I heard Snell ask and he got up and came over to where I was.

“Did we dead all of them muthafuckas?”

“Steele and that pussy who was standing behind the chair got away with the bags.”

“Damn! We gotta get out of here. I'm hit in my shoulder. Help me up so I can get little man in the car.” When I looked at my son my worst fear had surfaced. He was bleeding from a hole in his head and his body was limp. “Faheem. Faheem. Get up. Daddy's here and he's not going to let anyone else take you away from him.” I started calling him and shaking his arm. I tilted his head back and tried to give him mouth to mouth but it was too late.

“He gone, Fah. We got to get the fuck outta here.” G said and put his hand on my shoulder.

“Get the fuck off me!” Tears came to my eyes as I tried one more time to give him life. But there was none there. I grabbed him in my arms and just held him tight.

“Fah this place is going to be crawling in a minute. He gone, Fah. We got to get the fuck outta here. Let me take him.” My cousin tried to convince me once again.

But I was fucked up. I just wanted to feel the last warmth left in his body. Vomit threatened to spill out of me. I knew right then and there I would never be the same. It's over for Oni and her entire damn family. The only thing I could think about was how the streets was a muthafucka. Just as a nigga hung up his gats they go and touch my seed. I am vowing to
Justify My Thug
in blood.

RICK

I didn't realize how much I missed LA. I sucked in as much of the LA air that I could. Being here had me feeling rejuvenated. I used to run this city. I called Nina and told her that I wished I would have brought her with me and that we gotta talk about moving out here.

My ex-wife wasn't home, and being a detective, I know how much people are creatures of habit. She was the definition of habit. The bitch kept a tight and rigid schedule. And sure enough, I went to her house and she didn't answer the door. I went around back for the spare key and it was in the same spot, down in the flower pot.

I went inside and did a walkthrough. Surprisingly, I didn't get nostalgic. Most likely because she made sure it never felt like home to me in the first damn place. Everything that I knew of was gone. Everything was new. It looked like she had stripped the damn place. Stripped it of me.

When I went to her bedroom, I went straight to the closet to see what kind of man she had stuck her claws into. Whoever
he was, I felt sorry for the muthafucka. But to my surprise the closet was full of nothing but women's clothes. I looked down at the shoes and it was the same scenario, all women's stuff.

I walked over to the dresser and she still had the picture of me and her at her sister's wedding. The rest of the pictures were of her and a dark-skinned sister with a mole on her chin. In some of the pictures they were hugged up, in others they were out to dinner, or in the backyard … my wife had turned to dyking. Ain't that some shit!

I left her bedroom and went downstairs to pour a drink. Hell, I ended up having two. I thought about how when I passed Trae's house I was scared to stop. Me. Muthafuckin' King Rick was scared of something. Why? I didn't know. Well I knew but I didn't want to accept it. It's not like I did them dirty and left on bad terms. The truth was I wasn't sure how he would treat me since I was responsible for Kyra's death … in a way. Hell, Tasha wouldn't even talk to me and I know she knew it was me who was calling her. Fuck it! I'm stopping by there. Hopefully they will hear me out, if not at least I can say that I tried. But either way, it felt so good to be back in LA, the City of Angels. I got in my rental, looked at where I used to live and smiled.

“Rick? Is that you?” Mrs. Singer, my old neighbor startled me.

I didn't even bother answering. I started the car and headed down the block. There was someone sitting on Trae's porch. She had her head in her lap, a little chick.
It can't be.
I parked and got out. The young lady looked up and then stood up.

“Excuse me. Do you live here?” She asked me.

Her voice went right through me. My heartbeat started racing. My mouth turned dry. I rushed up the porch. I stood there face to face with … her. I wanted to turn my back towards
her and stop my tears but I couldn't. I couldn't take my eyes off of her.

“Do you live here?” she asked again.

I wanted to open my mouth to answer but …
how could this be
?

Finally I asked her, “Kyra is that you?” She cracked a smile. “You don't remember me?” I asked her.

“You know me?” she asked.

We stood there staring at each other for a good ten minutes. I didn't want to believe it was her. It couldn't be. The dreads was telling me it wasn't her. But the scar. I could see the scar. She was shot. That's when I knew. My eyes again welled up with tears.

She reached out and wiped them with her thumbs. I kissed her hand. She was trembling.

“Rick? Rick?”

She kept saying my name. Tears were rolling down her cheeks. She hugged herself as she backed up. “Rick. Your name is Rick. I remember you.”

And then she fainted.

TWENTY-ONE
KAYLIN

Just when I thought I left the game behind the shit keeps coming back to haunt me. The last thing I wanted was to get in the middle of Trae and Kyron's nonsense. I'm now a legitimate business man and all of this hood shit is beneath me. I'm going to make one last attempt to clean up this mess between the two of them and then I'm done with them both.

I pulled up in front of Trae's apartment in the city and he was coming out the door with a blunt in his mouth. He hopped in the car and did his usual, reclined the seat all the way back. I pulled off thinking to myself that if these muthafuckas don't get their shit together, heads are gonna roll.

TRAE

As I reclined the seat all I could think was if I get up here and this nigga say one wrong thing he is going from the hospital bed to the morgue.

Kaylin was silent the whole ride. Shit, I didn't know why he was all fucked up, since it was
my
wife who was running around like a fucking chicken-head fuckin' with
his
brother. Keeping it 100, he should be lucky that we are only on our way to the hospital and not to a closed casket funeral.

KYRON

I opened my eyes and these two niggas was standing at the end of the bed with rocks in their jaws, faces tighter than a bitch on Botox. Looking at their faces I had to laugh. It was painful because it felt as if someone was digging a jackhammer through my skull, but I couldn't help myself, they looked funny as hell.

“Look, I ain't got all day so I'm going to make this quick. This whole situation is sloppy. People are talking, and talking loud,” Kaylin said as he looked back and forth between me and Trae before he continued.

“I got a message from the dons. They said to make sure that the both of you understand it when they say, if y'all can't handle business they know someone who will handle it for you. They shouldn't be contacting me or us about this petty bullshit. And I'm no longer going to be the middle man for y'all two ignorant muthafuckas. I got my own family to worry about. So now, we need to lay all of our cards on the table. Speak now or don't say shit later.”

I was sitting here listening to my little brother lecture me and this nigga. Trae's ass was standing there looking at me all square and shit. But before I could say anything he took Kay up on his offer.

“Looking at this nigga laying here in the hospital I think I said enough.”

Then I mustered up the strength to bang on the side of my bed. That was as close that I could get for a clap, since I only had one hand operating.

“Big bruh, your speech, that was some beautiful Hollywood shit right there.” I continued to bang on the side of the bed. “Y'all niggas can't be serious standing here sounding like two bitches.” I pointed at Trae, “This nigga crying over some pussy.” Then I pointed at Kay, “And baby bruh, you just flat out got soft on a nigga. Your bitch must carry your dick around in her purse. Keith Sweat ass bitches. I ain't want to believe it. I thought we had the game on lock. Niggas was telling me y'all was all wifed up and shit, crying about getting out the game. Get out? We used to fuck the shit outta New York, raw. I gave y'all the muthafuckin' keys to this city.”

I turned my attention back to Trae. “And this nigga over here moved to Hollywood and grew a vagina.” After I said that these two niggas looked at me like they didn't know who I was.

“You—”

Kaylin tried to interject but I shot that shit down. “Shut the fuck up nigga I'm talking. You said lay the cards on the table, and I got a whole muthafuckin' deck. I put y'all on, do a bid for y'all pussies and get outta jail thinking we gonna be out here making this paper, but y'all niggas ain't hungry no more.”

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