Read Knee Deep in the Game Online
Authors: Boston George
Knee Deep in the Game (17 page)
Chapter Sixteen
“What's wrong, Pop, you haven't even touched your breakfast?” Nika asked.
“Nah, I was just thinking I want to set something up for the kids,” Pop said distantly as if he were deep in thought.
“What kids?” Nika asked curiously.
“Kids, period. I want to open up something that would keep kids out of the streets, like a gym or playground or something, you dig? Kids shouldn't have to grow up like I did,” he said taking a sip from his orange juice.
“Well, whatever you want to do just let me know and I'll do my best to help,” she told him.
“A'ight, I'm going to think of something 'cause too many black kids are turning to the streets and ending up in jail,” Pop said in deep thought.
“Well, it's better to lead by example, you can't tell kids not to live the street life and you out living it,” Nika stated plainly ... honestly.
“Yeah, I know I was going to try to surprise you, but fuck itâat the end of the month I'm moving to Miami to start my life over from scratch, and I was hoping you would join me,” Pop said seriously. “I been thinking about this shit for a long time now.”
“Get the fuck outta here,” Nika said, not believing a word Pop spoke.
“Nah, I'm dead-ass ... word to everything I love,” he said seriously.
“Oh, of course I will,” she said, jumping into his arms.
“Yeah, baby, I got enough money to open up a few businesses, so we can live comfortably, plus the money I make this month I'll use that to open up something for the kids,” he told her.
“That plan sounds great, Pop, I never been to Miami before,” Nika said with excitement.
“Me either,” Pop replied quickly.
“It's time to leave New York âcause it's too much shit going on out here, plus I'm in too deep in this drug game. I'm either going to end up dead or in jail, and I'm too young for all that, you know what I'm saying?” Pop stated plainly.
“You right, you need to move to a spot where don't nobody know who you are,” Nika agreed.
“You just make sure you keep your mouth shut, and don't tell nobody,” he joked.
“What about my mother?” Nika asked.
“You can tell her a day before we leave, a'ight?”
“Okay, baby, sounds cool to me. I'm about to go jump in the shower real quick,” Nika said, removing her clothes right in front of Pop.
“A'ight, baby,” he responded as he answered his vibrating Nextel.
“Fresh, what's good, my dude?”
“I'm chilling, I need to holla at you so when you get a chance swing by the warehouse for a second,” Fresh said in a mellow tone.
“A'ight, my nigga, I'll be there in like an hour.”
“A'ight I'll see you then,” Fresh said, ending the conversation.
“I hope Fresh got a job for me, because I could use the extra money,” Pop said to himself as he hopped in his Benz and headed to the warehouse. He didn't know what he was going to do for the kids yet, but whatever it was he knew it was going to cost.
As Pop drove to the warehouse he looked out the window and noticed all the little kids playing outside. “Damn, I have to hurry up and come up with a good idea for these kids,” Pop said as he pulled up a block away from the warehouse. “What's goodie? Pop asked, giving Rusty a pound.
“You know, regular shit,” Rusty responded as he closed the door behind Pop.
“Pop, have a seat, I got a job but I knew nobody would want this job more than you,” Fresh said, pouring Pop a drink.
“So what do I have to do?” Pop asked.
“This cocksucker Tito has got to go, and I know how much you hate him so I thought you might want this job, I saved it just for you,” Fresh said nonchalantly.
“Yeah, I'll take care of it,” Pop answered flatly. Pop didn't really want to hurt people any more. The reason he started hurting people in the first place was so he could get paid. Now that he was paid he didn't have the hunger inside of him to really hurt people any more, but he took the job 'cause he needed the extra money, and he couldn't stand Tito. After what Pop did to Amanda he no longer had that fire inside of him, like back when he was broke and hungry. Now that he had money the more he hurt people the less it made sense.
“It's about fuckin' time you let me get at this clown,” he said, feeling a little saucy already. Pop didn't like doing jobs anymore, but since Tito was the victim, he didn't have a problem with this one.
Tito sat in the passenger seat of the Honda staring out the window, patiently waiting to see the person he was looking for. In the driver's seat sat one of his flunkies.
“Yo, you sure this nigga gonna show up?” the flunky asked, looking over at Tito.
“Yeah, this where he always be at,” Tito replied as he took a long drag from his piff. He was waiting for a local hustler who went by the name Trees. About a week before Tito approached Trees with his proposition and he turned it down, so now he had to pay.
Trees stepped out of his building with a frown on his face. He had just got finished beating up his baby mother 'cause he was looking through her phone and found a few male numbers in there.
“Bitches get on my last nerve,” Trees mumbled as he looked down at his cell phone.
“Yo, there go your boy right there,” the flunky, said pointing.
“Pull up on that nigga slow,” Tito said, cocking back his P89 and sitting it on his lap.
Trees sat with his phone in his hand texting. He never noticed the Honda rolling up on him.
The flunky pulled the Honda up directly in front of the victim.
“A yo, my man,” Tito called out. His arm hung out the window, revealing the P89.
When Trees saw Tito he almost shitted on himself. “Yo, yo chill,” he pleaded as he began to backpedal.
Tito quickly raised his arm and let off five shots. Each shot found a home somewhere in Tree's body.
Once Tito stuck his arm back inside the window, his flunky gunned the engine, fleeing the crime scene.
Jason stood on the block, watching the fiends come and go. “That's right get that money,” Jason said to himself as he watched his workers trade the fiends crack for money.
“There go my nigga right there,” Jason mumbled when he saw the Benz pull up to the curb.
“How it's looking out here, B?” Pop asked as he stepped out of his Benz and gave Jason a pound.
“Yo, the block jumping like the playoffs right now,” Jason boasted.
“That's what I like to hear, B,” Pop said as he stepped in the bodega to grab him something to drink. “Yo, J., come take a ride with me real quick,” Pop said, reappearing out of the store.
“What's on ya mind, Pop?”
“Nothing I just want to let you know that you been doing a real good job out here on these streets,” Pop said, pulling out into traffic.
“Come on, Pop, you know I'm going to do what I have to do to get this paper by any means necessary, baby,” Jason boasted proudly.
“Yeah, I know, that's what I need to talk to you about, B,” Pop said with one hand on the steering wheel, “I might be leaving soon.”
“Where you going?” Jason asked, turning his neck so fast he saw Pop flinch.
“I don't know, I might be leaving town for a while real soon,” Pop revealed.
“You don't even have to tell me, I know you going to have to shut the block down, right?” Jason asked.
“Nah, actually I was going to pass the shit over to you,” he said as he watched a Kool-Aid smile appear on Jason's face.
“Get the fuck out of here, you serious?” Jason asked in disbelief.
“Yeah, you been doing such a good job I decided to keep the money in the family,” Pop told him.
“That's what's up, so when you plan on leaving?”
“Probably at the end of the month, but the only thing is for this last month I'm not going to be able to pay you 'cause I need this money to move, but once I'm gone you going to be getting all the money, you dig?” Pop stated.
“Yeah, I'm with that, whatever I can do to help I'm going to do it,” Jason said seriously.
“Yeah, baby, four more weeks, and I'm out of here,” Pop said out loud as he and Jason cruised around Harlem.
Chapter Seventeen
Week One
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The day seemed to drag along as Pop sat in a black Honda one block away from where Tito stood with a few of his soldiers. Pop was trying to see if Tito had a regular routine so it would be easier to erase the man, instead of getting into a reckless shoot-out with Tito in the middle of the street.
“Yo, I'm going to get up with y'all fools later,” Tito said as he hopped in his Porsche and pulled out into traffic. For the whole ride he noticed the Honda tailing him. Pop made sure he stayed at least three cars behind the Porsche, so Tito wouldn't spot him.
“This mu'fucka must think I'm stupid,” Tito said, looking through his rearview mirror at the black Honda. “This what the fuck I'm talking about, let's get it poppin',” he said, keeping his eyes on the road as he cocked back his P89 and placed it on his lap. Pop stopped two blocks away as he saw the Porsche stop in front of an apartment building. Seconds later Pop noticed a nice-looking woman come strolling out of the building. He watched as she slid in the passenger seat of the Porsche.
“Hey, baby,” Nice Titties said as she kissed Tito on the cheek.
“What's good? I see you looking sexy as usual,” Tito said, taking a second to look at the woman's body before he continued. “What's good, you want to go grab something to eat?”
“Sure, why not?” Nice Titties answered shrugging her shoulders. She didn't care what they did. She was just happy to be around the up-and-coming street hustler. As soon as Tito pulled off, Nice Titties' head quickly disappeared down into Tito's lap.
Tito almost lost control of the vehicle when he felt the young lady's lips wrapped around his love stick. He watched her head bob up and down in a slow but steady pace. Twenty minutes later Tito parallel-parked across the street from a fancy restaurant. Before he stepped out the Porsche he made sure he placed his P89 in his waistband so he could reach it quicker when necessary. When Pop saw Tito and his lady friend step out of the vehicle, he made his move. He quickly threw on his hockey mask followed by his hoodie as he cocked back his .45 and hopped out the Honda. He walked softly but at a fast pace, trying not to be detected.
“You know you my favorite girl, right?” Tito lied, putting his arm around Nice Titties.
As Tito continued lying to his female friend, he slowly slid his P89 from his waistband and clutched it tight in his hand. When Pop got close enough to his target his heart began to pound in anticipation of what was about to pop off. He quickly aimed his .45 at Tito's back and pulled the trigger.
As Tito walked something told him to turn around now. When Tito turned around he saw a man in a hockey mask holding a gun. Instantly, his survival skills kicked in full-blast. Tito quickly pulled Nice Titties in front of him. Her body jerked back from the impact of the multiple shots that exploded in her chest.
Tito tried to continue to use Nice Titties' body as a human shield but her lifeless body was too heavy for him to continue to hold up. Without thinking twice he quickly tossed the woman's lifeless body to the ground like a rag doll as he dashed into the restaurant, throwing three reckless shots over his shoulder in the process.
Pop dodged the three shots as he followed his target inside the restaurant. When all the rich white people saw the Dominican man run in the restaurant with a gun in his hand, they immediately started to panic.
“Oh my God, he's got a gun!” a white woman screamed out, immediately causing a mini-stampede to form.
When Pop entered the restaurant, he saw Tito trying to blend in with the white crowd. Without hesitation Pop aimed his .45 at the crowd, sending three shots in their direction.
As Tito tried to find a way out of the restaurant, he noticed a white woman next to him drop to the floor from a bullet from the gunman.
Tito found himself running into a dead end. He quickly turned toward the window and sent two shots from his Ruger into the thick glass. The two bullets went straight through the glass causing it to shatter but not break. When Tito saw the gunman getting closer, he ran full speed toward the window. Once close enough, he jumped through the shattered glass, landing onto the street.
“Fuck!” Pop yelled, knowing he couldn't continue the chase because the police would be there in no time.
When Pop made it outside he quickly ran around the corner and removed his hockey mask and hoodie as he ran to the next avenue to catch a cab. As Pop sat in the cab he saw several police cars storming past him, headed in the opposite direction. “That was a close one,” he said to himself as he closed his eyes for the rest of the ride. All he could think about was how close he had come blowing it all by getting locked up.
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Seven hours later, Tito showed back up to the crime scene. “It's on and poppin' now,” he said to himself as he hopped back in his Porsche and peeled off.
Tito didn't know who had tried to kill him but he knew Fresh had something to do with it. He drove down the street like a madman who just lost his best friend; the only thing on his mind was getting even with Fresh. Tito had a street reputation to uphold, and he planned on doing his best to do that.
“These mu'fucka must be crazy,” Tito laughed loudly before he continued. “Sending a fuckin' rookie to try to smoke me, it probably was that young street punk Pop,” he said out loud, replaying the scene over again in his head as he pulled up in front of his house. No matter what Tito did he just couldn't stop thinking about the situation. “Fuck that,” he said as he walked to his closet and pulled out a black hoodie. “These fools done fucked with the wrong one,” he growled as he reloaded his P89 and headed right back out the door. Instead of hopping in his Porsche, this time Tito hopped in his all-black Acura.
He took seven minutes to roll up a blunt before he finally pulled out of his driveway. When Tito finally made it to his destination, he slowly rolled down his window and grabbed his P89.
“Now mu'fucka wanna be hiding and shit,” Tito said out loud as he noticed all the lights in Fresh's warehouse were off.
Once Tito was directly in front of the warehouse, he stuck his arm out the window and let a whole clip full of fireballs spit from his cannon. The bullets shattered every window in the warehouse, and left big dents in the places that couldn't be shattered.
“Fuck boys,” Tito snarled as he left the smell of burned rubber in the air. He knew that there was nobody in the warehouse, but his plan was to send a message, and that message was, let the war begin!
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